Amia, The Riddle Girl
by Lost1nTheLight
Summary: To live your whole life loving someone, then discovering that everything is a lie, it hurts. It hurts bad. But sometimes it can be fixed, by someone, or something. A family, friends, a home, sometimes those can help you heal, help you mend, the question is - will they? (Story: Amia runs away and is found by Dumbledore, who places her with the Weasleys - set in Chamber of Secrets)
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Okay, so hi. This is the first story I've actually ever uploaded to this site (obviously not the first I've ever written), and so I'm just going to see how it goes and hopefully it's not completely and utterly atrocious so nobody - sane or insane - wants to be put through the torture of reading it. I would really love it if you reviewed or did any of that stuff, just to tell me what you think :) Thanks so much, I hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer for the whole story: I don't own anything other than Amia and her story. So basically anything you recognize - not mine. **

_In order to be created, _

_a work of art must first make use_

_of the dark forces of the soul_

_- Albert Camus_

Chapter 1: Betrayed

"Papa?" Amia called as she carefully balanced two cups of warm cocoa on the book she'd been reading. Nieve, it was called. Her Papa had given it to her for Christmas and she adored it. So much so that this was the fourth time she was reading it. "Papa, I've made us some hot chocolate." She tried. Still no answer. "Papa?" Her words were met with silence again. She furrowed her brow and began walking toward his study, cautious as not to spill the cocoa. But he wasn't there. Neither was he in the bathroom, the living room, his bedroom (which was strange because it was late at night and normally that's where he'd be. In fact, Amia wasn't even supposed to be up, but she'd had a nightmare), or the kitchen.

Just as she was about to go down stairs she heard a pair of voices, not loud enough to make out what they were saying, but she was certain one was her Papa's. She could be in the darkest corner of the night and she'd know that voice. Slowly, she crept toward the sound, careful not to make the floorboards creak.

The voices were coming from the room at the very end of the hall. Papa had forbidden her to ever go inside, and usually there was a lock, but not this time. She would be in serious trouble if he caught her, but she just couldn't help her curiosity.

When she reached the door, as quietly as she possible could, she nudged it open. Peering through the crack, she saw something that didn't make any sense. There was her Papa, looking the same as always, however at his feet knelt another man.

His face was contorted in pain and he seemed to be sobbing. "Please." He begged. "Please. Have some mercy."

Papa laughed at the man, But not the warm, comforting way she knew, it was something cruel and cold and it made her feel like shrinking away.

"Me? Mercy?" Papa laughed again that horrible laugh. Amia didn't understand what was going on. Who was that other man? And why was he begging for mercy? "I am the Dark Lord and all will fear me!" The Dark Lord? What was he talking about? Why would her Papa want anyone to fear him?

Then he raised his wand and said something that sounded like 'Abracadabra'. A burst of green light shot form it and the man on his knees suddenly fell forward, motionless.

Time seemed to slow. The cups of cocoa fell from Amia's hands and crashed on the floor, shattering into a million tiny shards. Her Papa's head snapped toward her, their eyes locking. Then she slammed the door shut and ran. She didn't stop for a moment, just bolted down the stairs and flung open the door that led outside. She'd only been outside a few times before, but she didn't pause to look at the sky or feel the night air dance across her face, she just ran. She didn't have any idea where she was going, but she just needed to get away from there, away from what she'd seen. Behind her, she heard Papa calling her name, but she didn't look back.

What had he done?

In the darkness she tripped over tree roots and crumbling stones, catching herself on her hands and continuing. Tears leaked from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. Hair whipped her face, branches tore at her dress. But she kept running.

When she finally did stop, she was in the middle of a cornfield. She didn't know how far she'd gone.

He had killed him.

A scream ripped from her throat like a wild animal's roar. It filled the dark night around, reaching all the way to the stars. Then she collapsed on the dirt, choked sobs escaping from her mouth until she ran out of tears. Then she just laid there on the ground, giant cornstalks shooting up around her, staring at the sky until she fell asleep. The last thing she remembered was hearing footsteps approaching, but she was too tired to move, and then the twinkling blue eyes looking down at her.

*Line Thing That I Don't Know How To Put In*

The first thing Amia heard when she woke up were voices, but she was too exhausted and hurt to try and distinguish what they were saying. She waited a moment before her vision could come into focus and the black dots disappeared. Where was she? She breathed in deeply and caught the scent of . . . lavender? That was odd, her bedroom didn't smell like lavender.

And in that moment something in her mind snapped into place. She sat bolt upright. A bunch of grown-ups stood a little ways away from her bed, talking in low voices. When she sat up they stopped. She stared at the room around her in horror. She really wasn't at home, which meant . . .

"Child! You must lay back down!" A woman who looked like a nurse came toward her. Amia scrambled away from her until her back hit the wall. Looking around she saw a bottle of something on the night stand next to her bed and held it in front of her like a weapon.

"Don't come near me!" She warned them, shrinking back against the wall. Her hands shook.

"Come Poppy, she is frightened." An old man said in a calm voice. He had long white hair and a silver beard to match, half-moon glasses and twinkling blue eyes.

Amia stared at him for a moment, faltering. Those were the same eyes she'd seen before she'd fallen asleep. Who was this man and why was she here?

He gave her a gentle smile and she raised the bottle again. "Stay away!" She shouted at them.

"We don't mean you any harm. You are safe here." He told her in a grandfatherly voice that almost made her burst into tears.

"You don't know me!" She yelled at them. "So just stay away!"

"You're Amia, aren't you?" He asked her softly.

"Oh my word," the nurse lady breathed. Amia's eyes darted between the four people in the room. Other than the grandfather man and the nurse, there was a man long black robes with dark eyes that stared back unflinchingly. Then another lady with her hair pinned back into a tight bun, and a witch's hat sitting on her head.

"How do you know my name?" Amia demanded. Her voice sounded afraid even in her own ears.

The witch with the tight bun covered her mouth with her hand. "She really is her." She whispered, but Amia still heard her.

The dark wizard's eyes flashed.

The tight-bun witch made to step toward her, but Amia hurled the bottle at her and jumped out of the bed. She spotted a chair and ran to crouch behind it. If they tried to come near her, she'd throw it at them.

Apparently, they didn't seem to understand that she didn't want them close to her, because the nurse once again tried to go to her. But this time the dark wizard held her back. "Don't you get it? You're scaring her." He said quietly. Amia looked at him, her eyes frightened and confused.

The grandfather-y one nodded to him. "You will need to trust me, alright? It is the only way. We aren't here to hurt you." He said.

Amia shook her head quickly.

"We are going to protect you, but first you need to tell us everything." Amia thought for a moment. Why would she tell these people the truth? How was she to know who was good and bad anymore? With only two words, her entirely life had gone spiralling down into chaos. Her perception of right and wrong was a mess of uncertainty, and she didn't know what to do. An unexpected sob racked her body, but she quickly suppressed it. The grandfather spread out his hands in front of him, then stepped forward. Immediately she stood and gripped the chair.

"Don't come close to me!" She shouted at him. "I'll throw it at you! I will!" But he kept walking towards her. She lifted her chair up threateningly, and then threw it with all her might right at him. Except he flicked his wrist and it went flying off to the side. She frantically grabbed anything she could find and threw it, until there was nothing left to throw. The grandfather man didn't seem fazed, instead he reached her and ever so gently put a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened and went stone-still. He smiled warmly down at her. "See? There's nothing to fear."

She stared at him for a long moment, searching his eyes for a lie, but they were only full of kindness. Slowly, she relaxed.

"Now, my name is Albus Dumbledore. I am the headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That's where we are right now. You're in the infirmary. This is Professor McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, and Professor Snape. Now, do you think you can tell me what happened, Amia?"

She stared at her hands. They were shredded from falling on rocks when she'd been running. "I –" she stopped, and then whispered, "He killed him."

"Who my dear?"

So she told him about her Papa, who she'd always figured was much too young to be a Papa, but she's never had a father so that's what she called him. She explained about it was just him and her, and she never even saw another person before, even when he'd let her go outside, which was hardly ever. She told them about the green light, and her running away. She told them everything.

When she said the part about him calling himself the Dark Lord – very weird – they all looked shocked. Astonished. Terrified. Except Professor Dumbledore.

"What is your Papa's name, child?" He asked softly.

She looked at him strangely. "Tom. Riddle."

Professor Snape clenched his jaw and stared ahead determinedly. The nurse and other professor looked at each other. Professor Dumbledore drew in a deep breath, his eyes full of an emotion she couldn't identify. And then she realized they were afraid. Afraid of her Papa? It was such a strange thing to think of. She just didn't understand. Her Papa was gentle and kind and loving, how could he possibly be what they thought he was? How could he possibly have killed that man? It was so . . . just . . . argh. She didn't know whether to scoff at the notion of him being bad - she must have misunderstood, scream, or cry. She wanted to do the last two, because she knew deep in her heart that she didn't misunderstand, that what she'd seen was the truth, but took a shaky breath and stopped herself.

"What?" she asked. What could his name mean to them? "What is it?" The professors remained quiet. "If there's something you know about me or my Papa you'd better tell me right now!" She yelled. They looked at her sadly, as she stood with her eyes wide, trying to hold onto what she'd believed her whole life was true, before it slipped from her grasp. "He loves me, and I love him, and I don't know what happened, but he couldn't have really killed him, right? Right?" she was crying now, the tears staining her cheeks. "Because he has to be good. Right? Because if he isn't then how come he tucked me into bed every night? How come he watched movies with me and brushed my hair for me and taught me how to play chess and kissed me on forehead and held my hand whenever I was afraid? How can he not be good after all that? How could he possibly be anything but good?" She began to shake, and she just. Couldn't. Breathe.

She gasped for air, a choked scream struggling to escape. She couldn't get enough oxygen and blackness pricked at the edges of her vision. She choked and coughed and clawed at her throat, but it was like she was drowning. The professors and nurse were a flurry of movement around her, but it was like she was disconnected from it all, everything far away and blurry. Until her vision went completely dark and she floated away from the world.

**I would love for you to review and tell me what you think, even if you think it's horrendous and you never want to read it again :)**

**Thanks.**


	2. Chapter 2: Healing

**Author's Note: I just wanted to say thank you to Qoheleth for showing me how to use the line thing, that saved a lot of wasted time feeling like a failure, because you know, ain't nobody got time for that.  
**

Chapter 2: Healing

Amia woke up from the heat. Blazing all around her and inside as well. Like a fire burning deep in her chest, and the flames reaching outward to engulf all of her. She sat up and screamed. It hurt so badly. Scorching every part of her all the way to her fingerprints.

Her hands tore at her clothing wildly and she ran to a basin of water near her bed. She stuck her face in, but it wasn't enough. It was just too much. She gripped the sides of the stone and poured the entire basin of water over her head.

It drenched her nightgown and left her skin and hair soaking wet, but finally the heat was gone. She let out a sigh of relief and slid down to the floor. Just then Madam Pomfrey came running in, looking frantically for Amia when she saw her slumped on the floor. She rushed to the child.

"Are you alright? What happened?!" The nurse demanded.

Amia didn't look up just let out a breath and said, "I'm okay now."

"Well come then, we need to get you into something dry." Madam Pomfrey took her by the hand and stood her up.

When she said that though, Amia yanked her arm away and growled, "No!" The memory of the heat fresh in her mind.

"Just a light nightgown, that's all. "Madam Pomfrey assured her, and Amia hesitantly agreed.

As she stripped out of her wet things and Madam Pomfrey dried her hair she asked, "What day is it?"

"June 28th, love." The nurse responded, trying to rub the little girl's arms dry with a towel, though it was difficult because she kept squirming.

"June 28th? Holy cow!" Amia pulled away for a moment to look at the nurse with wide eyes. She hadn't realized how long it had been. Six days. Six whole days. It may not have seemed like much time but it had been six entire days since she'd seen Papa, and she'd never gone for more than a few hours without him before. Apart from that first night, she'd woken up a few times, but only partly. As if she was still half in the dreaming world. She'd seen Professor Snape and Dumbledore and McGonagall once in a while standing near her bed or watching her to make sure she was okay. Sometimes they'd say something to her, but she'd fall back asleep before she could reply. However it was Madam Pomfrey she'd seen the most. Hurrying around, making her drink disgusting medicines, adjusting her pillows. She wasn't going to say that it was enough to make her trust them because if they wanted to hurt her they would've already. People only said that to themselves because they wanted to trust someone, they couldn't go long on their own. It destroyed them from the inside out. She knew perfectly well if someone wanted to hurt you they didn't the first chance they got. If they really wanted to hurt you they'd make you trust them, and wait a long, long time to do it. No, that wasn't why she trusted them. She trusted them because in that half dreaming state, she saw them, their faces, and their eyes. Professor Dumbledore's wise, twinkling blue ones. Professor McGonagall's caring, worried ones, their kindness disguised behind her stern face. Madam Pomfrey's that held nothing but concern. And Professor Snape's dark ones that had secrets hidden so deep they seemed bottomless. That's what made her trust them. Because she knew, she just knew that those eyes were not lies. Of all the secrets and masks that people were made up of, there were two things about them that could not weave false stories as cleverly as the mind and body. The heart and the eyes. Amia knew those were the two purest things there were. Especially the eyes. Because although the heart could be cruel and twisted and angry, the eyes were where the innocence – sometimes the very last slivers of it – lied.

Professor Dumbledore had told her that they were doing their best to figure everything out and that when it was the right time they'd tell her all of it, but right then she should focus on other things. At first she'd protested. Actually she'd screamed at him, but then she'd decided that it was probably a good thing to wait a little bit to be told everything because she wasn't quite ready to hear it. So for now she was trying her best not think about it.

"Okay then, here you go." Madam Pomfrey handed her some clothes and left her alone to put them on.

She took off her underwear and replaced it with clean, dry ones as well as a new nightgown. Then she dragged a chair over to one of the many large windows. She opened it and sat down, looking out at how the sun painted the bark of the trees golden and how the clear water of the lake glistened, reflecting the light. It was one of the most gorgeous things she'd ever seen, which was understandable since she'd rarely been allowed outside with her Papa.

Professor Dumbledore wouldn't let her go outside here either. Well, it wasn't really Professor Dumbledore, but more Madam Pomfrey. In one of those moments she was half awake, Madam Pomfrey told her she wasn't allowed to leave the infirmary until she was properly healed. Healed from what, Amia didn't know.

A broken heart, maybe?

It was certainly the thing that hurt the most. And that was the truth.

Before she could think about it too much Professor Dumbledore came into the room.

"Hello Amia. "He said.

"Hi." She replied. What a stimulating conversation.

"I have something important to discuss with you." At these words Amia turned to look at him full on, giving him as much attention as she could with the beautiful view right beside her. "Madam Pomfrey has informed me that in a few days you should be well again. Now, you see, you will certainly be coming back to Hogwarts when the school year begins with the rest of the students, but for the rest of the summer it would be best for you not to stay here." Amia opened her mouth to argue but Professor Dumbledore held up a hand to stop her. "We've contacted a family already for you to stay with. The Weasleys. They're one of the families I trust most."

"But why?" Amia interrupted, staring at him, agitated. "I don't even know them! Why can't I stay here?"

"Well, you see, they have many children, seven in fact, and I believe it's best for you to be with a family right now. Of course, Hogwarts is a family, but in the summer it's just us rickety old teachers. I'm sure you'll quite enjoy staying with them. When everything has been figured out with what's going on, we will see if you might like to stay with them indefinitely. As part of their family, you understand."

"What about my Papa though? What are you going to do about that? What if you find him and it turns out he's okay then I can go back with him, yes?"

Dumbledore looked down at her, and she thought she saw sadness in his eyes, but he said nothing. The silence was suffocating, so Amia let out a little laugh and turned to look out at the window because she didn't want him to see the tears blurring her vision.

"We will see what happens about that when the time comes, my dear." The headmaster finally said. "But for now, do not think of such things. If there ends up being a reason for your sadness, let it wait until the time comes. Focus on the light, child."

Amia's chin quivered and she nodded once, wiping away the tears.

"I suppose I should tell you about the Weasleys, then?" Dumbledore asked lightly. "Their youngest son, Ronald, will be starting his second year here. Their only daughter, Ginny, who is the youngest of them all will be starting her first. I believe it would be a good idea to see what level of magic you are at so you can join the proper classes. You will be eleven soon?"

"Uh-huh. On July 28th." Amia said.

"Indeed. So perhaps we should go to my office and get that cleared up right now. We've arranged for you to meet Molly and Arthur Weasley tomorrow, the parents, and then if everything goes as planned you'll go to stay with them once you're healed."

Amia didn't want to leave. This was the only place that she felt somewhat safe. But really what could she do? She was so confused that at the moment she was just trying to keep her balance on the fragile ledge she stood on. So she simply nodded.

One thing she had to admit though, she was ridiculously happy to leave the infirmary. Professor Dumbledore winked at her and she couldn't help but crack a smile. Together they walked through long corridors and staircases and all the way up to the Headmaster's office. Amia was amazed by the grandness of it all but her attention was soon caught by Professors McGonagall and Snape who were already waiting for them.

"Alright. Shall we begin then?" Dumbledore said, and they did. She was asked to do several first year spells, and although she'd done almost none of them before, they were quite simple and she managed to perform them easily. Professor Snape gave her a few primitive potions to brew, which she got the hang of right away and completed them without a flaw. When they moved on to second year magic, it became a bit more difficult and the occasional mistake was made, and it took a bit longer to figure out how to do them. However, seeing as she'd never done a single one of them before in her life, the professors thought she was doing rather well. The entire thing was admittedly exhausting for Amia and when she finally finished, she had to sit down from the fatigue.

"Well Amia, I think you've done quite enough, for if we continue I fear Madam Pomfrey will have my head." Professor Dumbledore announced. "Now, I'm sure you could join the third year classes and still be able to keep up, but there are some rather important spells in second year that will be important for your learning. Not that we couldn't teach them to you right now, but I also think once you've met the Weasleys you would like to be in the same year as someone you know." Amia nodded. "Just so you understand, at Hogwarts when you are eleven you start in first year and that's it. But I feel since you are quite different from other students it would be unfair to put you in a class you already know for an entire year. Therefore, as long as no one is against it, I think the best option for us is to put you into second year." He paused to see if anyone objected but no one said a thing. "Excellent. Now we'd better get you back to the hospital wing before you collapse from exhaustion and Madam Pomfrey burns us all at the stake." He finished cheerfully.

But before Amia could leave Professor Snape stepped forward. "Headmaster, if I may." He said in his quiet, smooth voice while staring at the little girl in front of him. "I would like to see how much magic this _child _has right now."

Professor McGonagall began to protest but Professor Dumbledore held up a hand, looking at Amia curiously. He nodded at Professor Snape and the potions master took another step toward her.

Amia stared at him, standing slowly. Professor Snape took out his wand. Then, it was like the room disappeared and all she saw were his dark eyes that stared right into her heart. Suddenly she was falling, falling into the darkness. Drowning. Suffocating. Bleeding out. Being ripped apart. All at once. Her eyes went wide and she began to choke. Not on anything solid. Not on anything not solid either. And then she was shattering. Everything. Nothing. She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe. "Stop." She whispered, but the word was lost. She shut her eyes as tightly as she could. Her heart was beating wildly. She felt something build up in her chest, growing, and then exploding. Her eyes flew open and her hair and clothes whipped against her from sheer force. Black dust burst from all around her and she could feel the strength of it in her bones. Something wild, untamed, roared inside of her and lightning-like electricity tingled across her skin. It made her feel alive, and then . . . frightened. Through her magic she could see the professors. Dumbledore stood in front with his hands spread out, creating a rippling barrier between them and her. It looked like he was about to be blown away. But when she looked at his face, he was calm, steady. His voice reached her although everything else was so much louder.

"Stop. There's nothing here to hurt you. You don't need to be afraid, Amia. It's okay. You're okay. You can stop it. You can. I know you can."

Amia took a staggering step backwards. "Stop." She whispered. And it did. All at once it was gone. She fell to her knees, and then she was gone.

*Line Thing I Don't Know How To Put In At This Particular Moment*

"Really Headmaster, I feel the need to impress upon you never to do that again. Do you know now much damage could have been done?" Madam Pomfrey's distant voice reached Amia's ears.

"No need to worry Poppy, we're quite finished. Indeed if I'd known, or even suspected how much magic she possessed at such a young age . . . well I might have taken more precautions." If Amia was fully awake she would have laughed at the Headmaster. Might have?

"Yes well I've been working all night and the good news is that she should be better very soon, but she'll need to take it easy for the next couple of days." Madam Pomfrey's voice once again cut through the haze of sleep.

Amia made a soft noise and opened her eyes. Then she groaned. Back in the hospital wing.

Professor Dumbledore sat down on the end of her bed. "My dear, it appears you've been forbidden to do any more magic for the next few days, which I'm afraid is my fault. However Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are coming to meet you today."

Amia nodded and let her head fall back on to her pillow.

"Albus, I think it would be best if she got a bit more rest before they came." Madam Pomfrey told him pointedly.

"Of course." He smiled at Amia and then left. It took only a few minutes after that for her to fall back into the dreamless slumber she'd woken from.

She slept for a few more hours before being gently shaken awake by Madam Pomfrey.

"The Weasleys will be here soon, child."

Amia sat up in bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Today it's just the parents coming, Molly and Arthur Weasley. But they have lots of children you will meet when you go to stay with them." The nurse reminded her.

Amia had never seen another child her own age, and was rather excited to meet them when she went, but she was also glad that only the parents were coming today because she'd never been around many people and it was a little frightening.

Six minutes later Professor Dumbledore came through the infirmary doors with a man and woman behind him. They both had red hair, and wizard's robes. The woman was round and kindly looking with a motherly smile on her face.

"Amia, I'd like you to meet Mr. and Mrs. Weasley." Professor Dumbledore introduced her. Mr. Weasley took her hand and shook it. Mrs. Weasley didn't even bother with a hand shake, she just wrapped her arms around Amia tightly. Amia was startled at first but then hugged back. It made her feel so happy and safe it was astounding, maybe what she'd really needed was just a hug. She instantly liked them.

"Hello there, Amia, I'm Molly Weasley, but you can call me whatever you like." She gave her a big smile and then went to speak with Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey a little ways away. Mr. Weasley, however, stayed.

"So Amia." He said seriously sitting down in a chair and looking at her intensely. "I'm going to need you to answer me honestly on this, okay?" Amia shifted and nodded, preparing herself for whatever he was about to ask. "Have you ever used a wrist clock before?"

Amia stared at him for a moment and then burst out laughing. "A watch?" She said between giggles. "No."

"Do you think you could explain to me exactly how the face lights up?" He narrowed his eyes at her solemnly.

"You just press a button so you can see the time in the dark." She finally managed to stop laughing.

Mr. Weasley looked at her for a moment with wide eyes and then leaned back suddenly. He began to chuckle, a wide smile across his face. "Well, then, you are a genius. Brilliant! You simply press a button! I must say that we will be very happy to have you come to our family. Simply splendid. Now, this question is more difficult so think carefully. How might you be able to use a microwave?"

And so it went on. Amia thought Mr. Weasley was hilarious and Mr. Weasley thought Amia was a genius. A while later he left to speak with the others and she watched them curiously to see if she could hear what they were talking about. Before she'd almost forgotten they were there.

They were talking very quietly and she had to strain her ears to try and hear. For a moment, she thought she heard, "She doesn't know." But decided that it must have been her ears playing tricks on her and didn't think about it again. Eventually, when the Weasleys had to leave she gave Mrs. Weasley a hug without hesitation and waved to Mr. Weasley. Smiling even after they were gone.

Maybe it would be okay after all.

*Line Thing That Apparently Hates Me Because I Have No Idea How To Get It On*

That night Amia snuck out of the infirmary. She'd had a nightmare and couldn't bear to lie in the empty hospital wing, all alone, unable to fall asleep. She crept silently along the corridors, not sure as to where she was going, only that she needed to get out. Eventually she found a pair of enormous doors which when she slipped through found they led outside. She walked quietly across the grass, the night wind feeling more beautiful than anything she'd ever felt before. She began to calm down from her dream. It was gone, she was okay.

But then she heard a howl. It wasn't the noise that frightened her, in fact she thought it sounded sad, like its heart was breaking, same as hers. What frightened her were the shadows, at the edge of the forest, in the darkness, twisting, morphing. She didn't think, her mind didn't look for a logical answer, she just remembered her dream and took running.

Faster, faster. A light.

No, a hut.

Her legs ran even faster until she reached the cabin. She collapsed against the door from exhaustion. Suddenly, it opened and she fell face first into the warm, lit hut. Slowly, she looked up and saw a giant creature. She was about to scream when the creature said, "'Ello there, you must be little Amia." And then it stooped down and picked her up, setting her on her feet as if she weighed nothing more than a feather.

She looked at the creature and realized that, actually, it was not a creature at all but a person. A huge, eight foot tall person with a bushy beard concealing the bottom of his face. He had warm brown eyes and smile lines.

"Hi." She said slowly.

"I'm Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." He introduced himself.

At this Amia broke into a smile. So he lived here too. "Hello Hagrid. You're certainly a very TALL Keeper of Keys."

Hagrid laughed. "That I am. Now what're yeh doing outside this late? I thought you were s'pposed to stay in the hospital wing?"

She shifted on her feet. "I had a nightmare."

"Ah," Hagrid nodded understandingly. "Well how 'bout a cup o' tea, then?"

"Yes please."

Hagrid led her into his cabin, which Amia found absolutely charming and told him so. Then she climbed up onto a Hagrid-sized chair and he poured her some warm tea. "Well then. What was this nigh'mare o' yers about?"

She told him, taking occasional sips from her extra-large mug. He listened carefully and then told her that there was nothing to fear here. They talked for a bit and Amia decided she very much liked Hagrid.

Then she began to feel rather sleepy and drifted off right there in that chair. Hagrid draped a blanket over her and she curled up underneath, for once feeling completely safe.

*Line Thing That For Some Unknown Reason Is Holding A Grudge Against Me Because It Won't Let Me Figure Out How Yo Put It In*

When they got back to the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey was not impressed. Amia had woken up in the morning in Hagrid's cabin. After some breakfast, Hagrid led her up to the castle, holding her hand, and then to the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey was waiting for her with her hands on her hips and a stern expression. Uh-oh, Amia thought.

She smiled nervously to the nurse and said, "Hello," in an anxious voice.

"Don't you 'hello' me, young lady. What do you think you're doing leaving the hospital wing in the middle of the night?" She asked, eyes flashing.

"Well, you see I had this nightmare and didn't want to be here all alone so I ended up outside and the shadows were scaring me and I ran and found Hagrid's cabin and had some tea and fell asleep." Amia explained in a rush.

Madam Pomfrey's expression softened a little, hearing about the nightmare and being afraid of the shadows. "Well you sure are lucky that you're healing's finished or else you would be in big trouble little missy."

"What? I'm healed? YES!" Amia exclaimed, dancing around the room. She jumped onto her bed and sang, "I'm all better! I'm all better! I don't have to lay in bed anymore!" Over and over again.

Madam Pomfrey shook her head but smiled. "Mind you, that means you'll be leaving for the Weasleys' tomorrow."

Amia suddenly went quiet. She stopped dancing and stared at the ground.

"Whatever is the matter child?" Madam Pomfrey asked with a frown. "I thought you liked them?"

"I do it's just . . ." Amia trailed off. "I mean, what if they don't want me there? I haven't even met the children yet and maybe they won't like that I'm going to live with them."

"Oh," The nurse sighed in relief, which Amia felt deeply offended by, this was a serious matter! "There's no need to worry about that. I'm personally quite certain they'll all be very happy to have you around."

Amia relaxed a little and went back to her dancing.

**If you like it, please review! If you don't like it . . . still review! If you have suggestions, please review! Just review! Please! **

**Thank you xoxo**


	3. Chapter 3: A Family

**Author's Note: Hello there humans of the reading world. I just want to say that in the last chapter I forgot to put something important in and then I couldn't really find a place where it would fit. So. The reason Dumbledore found Amia in the first place when she ran away was because she was so angry and confused and filled up with all these emotions that she unknowingly used magic to put distance between herself and her Papa, that's also why he wasn't the one who found her.  
**

**Thank you so much for reading (if any of you actually are, not really sure on that subject right now, please review to let me know)!**

Chapter 3: A Family

They were ready to leave by nine o'clock the next morning. Madam Pomfrey had given her a dose of absolutely horrendous tasting medicine earlier and reminded the child over and over again to be careful and NOT to kill herself. Mercifully, Dumbledore had showed up and saved her before her head exploded. He'd told her that while she was at the Weasleys, she'd get her Hogwarts letter just like all the other first-years, but she'd get the list of books for the second-years.

Madam Pomfrey had given her a pair of white shorts and a light blue and white striped shirt as well as some white striped runners. Then she'd forced her to stay still while she pulled her dark hair back into a pony tail. After that she'd given her a backpack with an extra set of clothes and some more medicine that she was to take every night until it ran out.

And then she was ready. The professors had all come to say good bye as she and Professor McGonagall (who was taking her) stood on the school grounds. When they were about to leave she turned and gave the four of them – Madam Pomfrey, Dumbledore, Snape, and Hagrid – one last smile and wave. Then she held the Professor's hand and they disapparated.

So here's the thing, disapparating turned out to be not very pleasant. Amia had expected maybe something like feeling . . . how did you say it? Intangible kind of? Well, that's not what it felt like at all. It felt like being twisted all around and tied into knots and stretched squeezed all at the same time, and then suddenly being back on solid ground. Which was not cool. Do you know why? Because after being twisted and stretched and squeezed, landing back on the ground where your body was exactly your own and when you moved an arm you moved on an arm, not someone else shoved it against your side, made her want to throw up.

She stumbled a little and had to crouch to stop her head from feeling like someone had put her brain in a blender and then thrown it back into her skull without a care. After a few moments however, she stood and looked around.

They had landed in some tall, dry grass a little ways away from where the most magnificent house Amia had ever seen stood. It looked somewhat like a patchwork quilt. One piece added here, another there, all piled on top of each other. It was absolutely fantastic.

Mrs. Weasley was standing outside the house waving and smiling that motherly smile of hers. Amia gave a shy wave in return, still awestruck by the structure in front of her.

Professor McGonagall gave her hand a little tug and then led her to where Mrs. Weasley stood waiting for them. When they got there Mrs. Weasley pulled her into a hug. "Hello dear."

"Hi." Amia responded. "Your house is completely brilliant, Mrs. Weasley."

"Thank you very much, love."

Amia nodded. She kept looking at their wonderful home while Professor McGonagall explained to Mrs. Weasley about her medicine and such. Finally the professor looked down at her. "Well I suppose I should be going then. I'll see you when you come to Hogwarts, Amia. Be careful."

"See you soon." Amia smiled. McGonagall smoothed down her hair and said good-bye one last time, then disapparated.

Amia watched as the professor disappeared. She probably wouldn't see any of them until the school year began. Now she was on her own. She squared her shoulders, put on her game face and let Mrs. Weasley steer her into the house.

Inside was just as grand as outside, it was more wonderful than any home she'd ever even imagined before. Everything was just so comfortable and cozy and AMAZING!

"KIDS!" Mrs. Weasley shouted up the stairs at the top of her voice. "GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT! I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO BE READY FOR WHEN AMIA GOT HERE!"

Immediately she heard a flurry of movement from above. Doors opening, feet running down the stairs. Talking. Then before she knew what was going on seven fiery red-heads were standing in front of her. She stared at them with wide eyes. "This is Bill." Mrs. Weasley announced.

The oldest looking one stepped forward.

Bill was a tall, tall man with his hair drawn back into a pony tail and lean muscles visible under his shirt. He gave Amia a crooked half smile. She was barely able to take in his tallness, and with the crooked smile added on top she was thoroughly terrified. She stared at the ground, her cheeks going hot. He was so big that she barely reached up to his elbow.

Another with even MORE muscles than Bill and looked to be the next oldest stepped forward. Amia watched him from underneath her eyelashes. He grinned and shook his head teasingly at Bill. "Ah, look, now you've gone and scared her. Disgraceful, Billy." Then he knelt down in front of her so they were the same height. "Don't you worry about Bill, he's not nearly as frightening as he looks. In fact," he leaned in close as if telling a secret, "Once he screamed at the top of his lungs because a firefly had landed on his foot. I'm Charlie by the way." He winked and a small, sweet smile played across Amia's mouth.

He stood again and Bill gave him a shove. "I was seven! That doesn't count! But then again, I guess I could tell her about the time a gnome chased you around the house for twenty minutes flat because you were too afraid to just pick it up already." Charlie turned his head to Amia, cupping his mouth and whispering very loudly, "He's a liar," and pointing his thumb at his brother.

Amia couldn't help it, she began to giggle. "Ah, there we go." Charlie and Bill smiled.

A third very non-muscular brother stood with his nose in the air. He raised his eyebrow at her and stuck out a hand. Shyly she reached out to place her tiny one in his large one. He shook it furiously, making her sway on her feet from the movement. When he let go she almost lost her balance. "Very pleased to meet you." He said with an air of formality. Somehow this was even more intimidating than Charlie's muscles or Bill's height. She cast her eyes downward and fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. The next boy strode forward.

"Oh budge up Percy, if she's going to be living with us you might as well drop the act, we all know you're a pompous prat, no need to pretend like she's some stranger. Soon she'll be one of us!" He flourished his hands dramatically. Another who looked exactly the same as him came to stand beside him, shoving Percy out of the way in the process.

"Yes indeed, we'll teach her our ways. You will learn, young grasshopper, that Percy's just got his knickers in a twist, don't pay attention to him. You stick by us and we'll keep you safe from his corruption."

"I'm Fred."

"And I'm George."

Amia looked at them with wide eyes, and then she began to smile.

"Aha! Look at that face! It could enchant a dementor! Look at those eyes!"

Amia had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from bursting into laughter.

"Now that's quite enough! There will be no corruption or teaching of your terrible mischief to her." Percy glared at them. One of the twins winked and the other grinned.

"What on earth are you talking about, dear brother? Surely you aren't insinuating that we would ever do anything other than what we're told? And that we would teach her such things? Ridiculous." Their smiles widened.

"Of course that's what I mean! Don't you dare go putting those awful ideas of yours into her head." Percy growled.

"We'll see." They muttered under their breaths.

The one she assumed was Ron was a tall, gangly boy with his hands stuck in his pockets. "Hello." He greeted her, looking curious. She nodded to him, for some reason feeling her cheeks getting warm again.

The last, smallest one was a girl. Ginny. She stood only a couple inches taller than Amia (which was impressive because Amia was tiny), and smiled shyly to her. Amia gave her own tiny smile back.

"Now then, Amia, you're going to share Ginny's room, alright? Why don't you go put your things up there and then you can all get to know each other. From now on you'll basically be brothers and sisters after all." Mrs. Weasley smiled kindly to her. Amia stared. Brothers and sisters? She refused to think of her Papa, but something about those words – brothers and sisters – made a warm feeling spread through her body as she thought about it. Brothers and sisters. They would be a family; no matter what happened with her Papa, she'd at least have them.

Eyes alight with wonder, she followed the children up the stairs to Ginny's room. When they got to a door that said: DON'T COME IN OR ELSE! Ginny stopped. She opened it to let Amia in but when the others tried to follow she slammed it shut. However, six boys, especially ones as strong as Bill and Charlie were no match for an eleven year old girl.

"Don't . . . come . . . in!" Ginny shouted. "Only girls are allowed! No boys! Get out now!"

"Hey! You can't keep her all to yourself, Ginny!" One of the twins shouted.

"Yeah! She's our sister too!"

That made Amia smile from ear to ear.

"We'll come out soon, just let her put her stuff away!" Ginny yelled, struggling uselessly to keep the boys out.

"Fine, two minutes. If you're not out by then we're coming in!" Another warned.

"Fine!" Ginny said and managed to slam the door shut.

She took a breath and turned to Amia. "Hi! I'm Ginny! We're going to be the best sisters ever! It's so awful having six brothers and being the youngest, you have no idea. When's your birthday?"

"July 28th."Amia told her.

"Hey! You're only ten; I'm not the youngest anymore! Yay!" she did a little jig. Amia giggled. "Anyway, the others are going to go crazy over you. A new baby sister? That's like the most wonderful thing that's ever happened to them."

That made Amia smile. Having a family was so nice it made her heart hurt. She turned and saw a ginormous, comfy-looking bed with lots of pillows and a worn, homemade patch work quilt. "Hey, are we both going to sleep in there?" She asked. Ginny nodded. Amia's face lit up. "Really? I've never had anyone to share a bed with before! This is going to be awesome! I'm so glad that I'm here now." And she meant it. When she didn't think of her Papa – she forced herself not to – she found that she really was delighted.

"Me too!" Ginny exclaimed. "I'm so happy! It's going to be the greatest!"

The two looked at each other and laughed, then they held each other's hands and jumped around the room in a strange, happy dance type thing. Finally they both collapsed on the bed. "Here, we'll put your stuff in the closet." Ginny took her extra clothes and hung them up. "We'll make you lots of new clothes too! Plus, you can share mine."

"If this is really what having brothers and sisters is like then I think it's the loveliest thing in the world." Amia said, and Ginny giggled.

"Well, I don't know about the brothers, but you being my sister is going to be awesome!" Ginny squealed. Amia just couldn't stop grinning, she honestly could not take in the absolute happiness she felt at that moment.

Suddenly there was pounding on the door. "Ginny! Open the door right now! You guys have been in there for WAY more than two minutes!" Charlie yelled through the wood.

Ginny marched over to the door and flung it open so abruptly that the boys all stumbled back, Ron accidentally elbowing Percy in the ribs.

"Finally!" A twin said.

"We've been waiting so long for this moment!" The other continued.

"Now –"

"Our lives –"

"Are complete!"

Bill snorted. "I'm pretty sure you're lives aren't quite complete yet. After all, you haven't put glue in Professor Snape's shampoo bottle yet."

"That is, if he uses shampoo." Ron muttered.

This made Amia laugh and laugh and laugh.

Together they went outside and sat in the overgrown grass, talking and laughing and joking for who knows how long. Halfway through Mrs. Weasley came to give them lunch and lemonade. It was delicious. At one point the twins made a joke that made Amia laugh so hard that she snorted lemonade out of her nose. This cracked everyone else up and soon they were all snorting lemonade.

The Weasleys had this tiny lake type pond thing and Charlie decided to clean them all up by splashing everyone. The next thing Amia knew she was being picked up by Bill and thrown in. She came up gasping and laughing and watched as they all cannonballed into the water as well. Then they laid on large rocks and let their clothes dry in the sun. By the time Mrs. Weasley called them for dinner, Amia's cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

They all came into the house where Mrs. Weasley was waiting. "Ginny, set the table please. Ron, get some drinks. Fred, George, take the potatoes out of the oven. Percy, put the steak on a plate. Charlie, would you chop some tomatoes? Bill, the rolls." She ordered. Off they all went, bustling around just like they're mother. Amia stood uncomfortably by the table.

"Is there anything I can do?" She asked shyly.

"Oh no, dear, why don't you just go get your medicine to take after dinner?" Mrs. Weasley suggested kindly. Amia ran up to Ginny's room and grabbed the potion bottle, then came back down and gave it to Mrs. Weasley. She pulled a chair out for Amia and the little girl sat down, feeling very small, but not in a bad way. She _loved _the Weasleys. They had this something about them. It was like they didn't even know her, anything about what she was like, and they were just willing to suddenly let another child into their family, a little girl, even though they already had so many children, and just accept her as a sister and a daughter as if she had lived with them all her life. They were so wonderful, each one of them their own. Fred and George were hilarious. Mrs. Weasley was very kind, but also sort of scary. Mr. Weasley was crazy and quirky and lovely. Ginny was sweet and strong and brave without even knowing it. Ron was funny and maybe a little oblivious but still somehow trustworthy and easy to talk to and loyal. Percy worked hard and meant well. Charlie seemed to make everything okay, and was caring and so nice. Bill was teasing and protective and calm. The two of them just like big brothers should be. But underneath they all had such a sense of goodness that Amia felt unsure how she could possibly be adequate against them. They didn't even know it, they didn't even have to think about it, they were just _good, _and that, Amia knew, was the kind of goodness that came deep from the heart, because the heart was the only thing that could be like that.

"Amia." Fred said in a ghostly voice, fluttering his hands in front of her face."

"Where are you, Amia?" George's voice matched his twin's voice as well as his hands.

She snapped into focus. "Pardon?"

They laughed and withdrew their hands. She tilted her head all the way back so she was looking at them behind her upside down.

"Oh, stop bothering her, sit down you two." Mrs. Weasley scolded, but her eyes were smiling. Amia's cheeks went hot and she ducked her head down.

"Oh, now look what you've done." Charlie shook his head at the twins, supressing a smile.

"WE haven't done anything." George raised his eyebrows.

"She's hiding her face because she doesn't want you to see that WE'RE her favourite brothers." Fred smiled at Charlie innocently.

"Oh yeah?" The older boy stood. "You sure about that?"

The two stood as well. "Is that a challenge I hear, Fred?" George looked at his brother with wide, mock-astonished eyes.

"I believe it is, dear brother." Fred made the same expression. Charlie crossed his arms over his broad chest.

"Alright. Let's see who can make her smile first. If it's me, I'm her favourite brother."

"And if it's us, we're her favourite brothers."

Ginny leaned closer to me and whispered, "Whatever you do, don't smile."

"Ready? GO!" Charlie said.

The twins began to leap around the table, twirling and dancing around, singing at the top of their lungs, purposely off-key (more like shrieking). Whenever they got near her seat they'd bend over her chair and make crazy faces at her, then laugh maniacally and bounce off again. Charlie on the other hand was tiptoeing around to each person, pretending to steal their food or pull their hair or tap their shoulders, then he'd cover his mouth and smile as if he'd just done something terribly funny and tiptoe to the next, all the while with an expression that made him look like a clown. Amia had to clench her jaw so she wouldn't smile. But then all three were in front of her at the same time and she couldn't hold it in anymore, she burst into uncontrollable giggles.

"A-ha! I'm the favourite brother!" Charlie declared.

"No! It was us that made her laugh!" The twins argued.

Suddenly Bill stood from his seat and puffed out his chest, flexing his biceps at the same time. "Sorry to disappoint you, children. But I am the favourite brother." He grinned crookedly and pretended he was the king of them all, turning from side to side and posing, as if being Amia's favourite brother were the greatest accomplishment of all. The table erupted into protests, all the boys jumping to their feet and saying that THEY were the favourite.

Amia looked over at Ginny and they both giggled.

"Boys, that's enough." Mrs. Weasley commanded, but amusement was written all over her face. Then everyone sat down and they began to eat.

For a few moments it was silent. All of the children eyed each other suspiciously, as if just waiting for one to say something first.

"Well," Ginny said casually, giving Amia a sneaky glance. "In truth I think we all know that it's ME who's her favourite." This set all of them off into another round of shouting. This time Mrs. Weasley did nothing but roll her eyes. Amia watched them quietly, a small smile on her face, all the while something growing in her heart, something warm and wonderful.

When they settled back down it took about two seconds for them to break into yelling once again. This continued until dinner finished and all the plates were collected and put in the kitchen to wash. Mrs. Weasley appeared in front of Amia just as she was standing from her chair.

"Alright, dear, now it's time for that medicine of yours." She said. Amia cringed. She was hoping that the medicine would be forgotten. However she just sighed and let Mrs. Weasley feed her a spoon of some strange, dark potion.

She swallowed, waited a moment, and then began to gag. It took a full six minutes for her to stop trying to throw the potion back up. It tasted ten times worse than the most disgusting thing she'd ever let enter her stomach.

"Mother!" George exclaimed, panicked.

"You've poisoned her!" Fred looked around frantically. "We must find a cure immediately!"

Both twins scoured the room until both their eyes lit up. Amia watched curiously, at the same time trying desperately to keep the medicine down. She definitely didn't want to ruin the day by throwing up.

Fred and George mysteriously disappeared into the kitchen. Then they came back with their hands behind their backs. "We have found a magical food to heal you from that deadly poison that was just fed to you." At that moment both turned to look at their mother darkly. Amia choked, trying to hide her laughter, at the same time trying to get the taste out of her mouth. Then the two brandished the cure they had hidden behind their backs. In George's hand was a pastry that looked like a mini apple pie. In Fred's was a chocolate shaped as a heart with designs made of white icing on top. She raised her eyes to them.

"This one first." Fred handed her the chocolate. She took a little bite and melted. It was the most delicious thing that she'd ever tasted. She devoured the rest of it and then licked the melted chocolate off her fingers. They laughed. "Now try this, in case you aren't completely cured." George suggested. She cautiously nibbled on the small pie type thing. The moment it entered her mouth she knew that she was done for, never again was she going to be able to resist Fred and George now that a weakness had been discovered. "MMMMMMMMMM," was the only sound she could make as she finished off the pastry. It tasted like apple crisp. Better. And apple crisp was her favourite. She looked up at them both with huge puppy dog eyes and they burst out laughing.

"Alright, alright, enough sweets for tonight or no one will ever be able to fall asleep and it'll be like trying to catch escaped hyperactive monkeys from a zoo." Mrs. Weasley shook her head as if she could already imagine what a head ache she was going have in the morning. "Off to get ready for bed with the lot of you. Everyone's going asleep early because Amia's had a long day and if you stay up you'll never let her get a good rest." Mrs. Weasley decided. All the Weasley children groaned but Amia just smiled. She didn't mind going asleep early. She couldn't have asked for a better day and she felt completely and absolutely happy. It was the first time since what had happened with Papa.

All eight kids marched up the stairs. Percy stopped at the first flight and went off to his room. Then the twins. Then Bill and Ron. Then Ginny, Amia and Charlie. Amia followed Ginny to her bedroom where the girl pulled out two sets of pyjamas. She threw one to Amia and then closed the door and undressed. Amia looked at the pajamas and then stripped and put them on. They were dark blue, white and black plaid pyjama pants that pooled around her ankles because they were a bit big. Then there was a loose gray long sleeve with the face of a monkey sticking his tongue out on the front. Amia thought it was adorable and told Ginny so. Ginny grinned. "If you think that's cute then I have a present for you." She went and dug around in the closet for a moment. When she straightened back up she handed something large and cushiony to Amia. The little girl looked down at the object in her arms curiously, then gasped. It was a huge pillow shaped like a monkey with the colours and everything.

"Awwwwww," was all she could say as she clung to the pillow tightly. "Is it for me?" She asked with wide eyes. Ginny nodded happily. Amia threw her arms around her new sister. "It's my favourite thing." She told her. Ginny giggled as Amia hugged the monkey close.

"Okay, let's go brush our teeth now." She was about to lead Amia to the bathroom but glanced at the pillow in her hands. "You can leave that here if you want."

The corners of Amia's mouth twitched downward. "Or you can take it with you." Ginny laughed. Amia grinned and they both padded toward the washroom in their bare feet. Charlie was there in his pyjamas, and somehow he looked even more muscular. Amia was a little frightened but she already loved him and so the fear quickly faded away. It was ridiculous to be afraid of someone just because they looked big and scary anyway, she knew.

"Do you like the pillow?" He questioned, eyebrows raised. She nodded. A smile spread across his face and he handed her a new toothbrush. "For you."

She took it and the next few minutes were silent as they cleaned their teeth and washed their faces. They could have bathes tomorrow. The image in the mirror was slightly odd as the three got ready for bed. Charlie at least a foot and a half taller than both of the little girls that stood on either side of him. All three brushing their teeth dutifully.

When they were finished off to their rooms they went. Ginny turned out the lights but lit a candle beside the bed as the two girls climbed into bed. They laid down and looked at each other for a moment, then the two burst into giggles.

They were interrupted by the door barging open. Six boys marched into the room. "I see you two are all ready for bed." Ron commented, eyebrows raised.

Ginny sat up. "I see you aren't."

"Well we thought we should say goodnight to the two baby sisters." Charlie said and let himself take a seat on the bed. The others followed his example and soon they were all squashed onto what had before seemed like a very large mattress to Amia.

Bill was the one who said it, seeing as he was the oldest and they'd decided it was his responsibility. "We're glad you came Amia." He started. She looked up at him. The picture of innocence. "We know that some things have happened to you, and maybe you're sad or angry but we hope that you're happy here, and that you'll be our sister. We know that sometimes things don't seem so bright, but every single one of us loves you, okay? Even Percy." Amia laughed. "So everything's going to turn out alright, and even if it doesn't, you're part of our family now, and we're going to take care of you." He smiled at her softly. Amia was silent for a moment then launched into his arms. He wrapped her in a hug after he got over his surprise.

She pulled back and looked at all of them. "I'm glad I came too. I love all of you as well." They each smiled tenderly. "Almost as much as this pillow." She clutched the monkey pillow to her chest lovingly. They laughed and Fred and George ruffled her hair.

"Glad you care about us so much." They joked.

"But I really do love you all. Thank you."

Percy was the first to interrupt the moment. "Yes, well I need to go off to bed early so that I'm awake enough to study tomorrow. School is near and I need to be in top shape."

The twins looked at him, exasperated. "We have two months of summer vacation, Percy."

"Never too early to work."

Every single sibling shook their head at that moment disbelievingly. Amia giggled.

"So I'll say good night now." He nodded to the little girls and almost smiled. Amia waved and off he went.

Next was Ron. "Night, girls." He patted Ginny's leg and left.

Bill wrapped them both in a hug at once and then went to bed as well.

Charlie pulled each girl close and kissed their foreheads. "Night then." And he was gone.

The twins were the only ones left by then. "If an axe murderer tries to kill you at night, scream and we'll save you, yeah?" Ginny and Amia laughed and the twins bid them both good night.

Then they were alone. "Good night, Amia." Ginny whispered as she blew out the candle and laid back down. "Good night Ginny." The child whispered back so quietly that her sister almost couldn't hear, and then she was fast asleep.

**I would love for you guys to review. I'm going to post one more chapter, but if there aren't any reviews or favourites or follows by then I'm going to guess it means that you don't like the story :(**

**xoxoxo**


	4. Chapter 4: Never-Ending Story

**Author's Note: I just wanted everyone to know that a momentous occasion has occurred. I finally managed to use the line thing so YESSSSS, I am ridiculously, unreasonably happy right now but whatever. Everyone celebrate the fact that I'm no longer a failure, YAY! You can see I used one of the lines in this chapter, it's a pretty beautiful line, just to let you know. Also, I'm going to wait to see if I get any reviews and what people think to post anymore chapters after this, because I don't want to keep updating a story that no one wants to read. So yeah, if you like it or don't like it or whatever, please review so I can see if I should continue :) Also, if you do review that you like it, I have another chapter I can upload _today _if you want where she meets Harry.  
**

Chapter 4: Never-ending Story

A month. A month with the Weasleys. A month with the people who were now her family. A month of being happy. A month of being alone. A month without her Papa.

"Mia!" Someone yelled. Amia pressed herself further into the grass. She was flat on her stomach and completely hidden. There was no way anyone would be able to find her. After all, who would look in the grass? What kind of a hiding place was that? Amia's kind of hiding place. It was tall enough to cover her head and she was far from the house, in the middle of nothing. She smiled to herself.

"Mia! You're the only one left! You can come out now! You've already won!" More yelling.

She wasn't falling for that. She already knew she was the only one left but she hadn't won. Not yet. She still had to find and catch the gnome without being seen. She'd been introduced to the game Hide and Seek a couple weeks ago and was crazy about it. She wriggled forward on her stomach toward the shed. Silently as she could, she raised her head and gave a quick sweep of the area. There was no one in sight so she raised herself into a crouch and sprinted. Somehow, she managed to make it behind the shed without being spotted. Dropping into a position that made her look like a cat ready to pounce, she took a few deep breaths. She was completely calm, she just needed to get to the garden and find Jack, the gnome. Then she would have won. Her eyes danced with wild excitement. It would be her first time winning. She got ready and counted in her head. Three . . . two . . . one and launched herself from behind the shed toward the house. But before she got two steps in someone caught her around the waist and flipped her over his shoulder.

"Charlie! I almost had it!" She cried.

"Sorry babycakes." He patted her legs and carried her into the open. She sighed and went limp on his shoulder. Fred and George stepped toward them. So they were there too. Amia frowned.

"You really love this game, don't you?" Fred laughed.

The little girl smiled brightly. "Mmhmm. That's right."

"Well, mum's calling us in for dinner. Let's go." George winked.

Amia sighed happily. "Okay, can you put me down now?"

She couldn't see Charlie's face, but she could tell he was grinning. "Nope."

"Charlie!"

"Sorry." He didn't sound sorry at all. But Amia knew she wasn't going to win so she let him carry her toward the house.

When they entered the kitchen, Amia looked down at the feast prepared for tonight and her face lit up. "Can we eat dinner outside?" She asked shyly, her eyes big and pleading.

Mts. Weasley glanced over to the little girl as she looked at her from where she was hanging. "I think that's a wonderful idea, Amia. Would you children mind setting up the table out there?"

And off they went. Charlie had apparently decided that he should keep Amia tossed over his shoulder, so it took about twice as much time to do anything but was twice as fun. As Charlie carried the chairs out he would set them down and then spin around so Amia had to hang on tightly as her hair whipped his face. By the end they were laughing uncontrollably. When dinner had been brought out and Mrs. Weasley was just finishing in the kitchen Bill snuck up on the child from behind. Then attacked her with tickles. She squirmed but Charlie hung onto her tightly, so she couldn't escape. When Bill finally relented she could hardly breathe and her cheeks were flushed pink.

"Alright, everyone settle down." Mrs. Weasley commanded as she sat down.

Charlie chuckled and placed Amia back on her own two feet. When he did so she felt at a considerable disadvantage, seeing as he was so much taller than her. He tweaked her nose and she threw herself at him, testing how high she could reach, but her hands hardly grazed his mouth. He laughed evilly and ran. For about ten minutes she chased him around the grass, until eventually she realized her efforts were pointless and collapsed right where she stood, laying on her back on the ground, arms stretched out wide, staring at the sky.

"Darling, come to the table." Mrs. Weasley called.

"Okay." Amia responded and jumped to her feet. But before she could go sit down she caught a glimpse of the garden. "Just a moment!" She yelled to Mrs. Weasley and ran to crouch where the beautiful wild flowers grew tall. There she picked a few of each type that she could find, careful not to get any that Mrs. Weasley had actually planted there, just those that grew there naturally. When she had a good sized handful she ran into the house and filled a transparent vase with water, placing the plants inside. Back outside, she put them on the table and sat beside Ginny.

"Oh those are so pretty! Good idea. Mum always wants to get them out of the way but I think they're beautiful when you put them together like that." The redheaded girl exclaimed.

Mrs. Weasley smiled tenderly. "Those are lovely, Amia. Now eat up, you're far too tiny for your own good."

Fred, who sat on her other side gave the little girl a poke in the stomach, which made her giggle. Then she smiled and began to eat.

* * *

"Alright, dear, it looks like tonight's the last time you'll have to take this medicine." Mrs. Weasley announced.

Amia straightened. "Really?"

"That's right."

"YES!" she shouted and bounced in her chair. There was a chuckle to her side.

Surprised she looked over, feeling her cheeks going red.

There stood all of the children, even Percy.

"Why are we all here to watch you take some revolting medicine, you might ask?" George said.

"We felt we simply could not miss this momentous occasion, seeing as you have survived to your last dose, we decided that a reward was in order." Fred continued. Then he produced a box and took off the lid. Inside was an extra-large cinnamon roll with icing on top.

Amia's eyes were as big as saucers as she looked up at the twins.

"Yes, yes, but not until you've taken your medicine." Mrs. Weasley's stern voice brought her out of her trance. Amia looked at the desert longingly but then tore her eyes away and glanced at the potion so heart brokenly that Mrs. Weasley almost relented. Almost.

As the repulsive liquid went down her throat her face contorted into appalled disgust. It took ten minutes for her to be able to breathe normally again.

"Look at that! You're finished! We should celebrate." Bill decided as the twins handed her the pastry.

She took a small bite and closed her eyes. It was so good. She tried to eat slowly to savour it but she couldn't help herself, she devoured it. Fred and George laughed as she licked her fingers.

"Everyone," Bill said, "go and get ready for bed and then go to Ginny and Amia's room."

Mrs. Weasley looked suspicious but then smiled as the two girls looked at each other excitedly.

All the children did as they were told. Once Ginny and Amia were dressed in their pyjamas and sitting on the bed waiting, the rest of the children entered the room.

Bill stood tall at the front. "We wrote you a story, Amia." He announced.

Amia looked at him in astonishment. "You wrote one for me?" She asked quietly.

He nodded. She smiled sweetly. She loved stories almost as much as her monkey pillow. She pulled her knees up to her chest and sat against the bed board as everyone else came to sit on the bed as well. It was a circle, to right of Amia was Ginny, then Ron, then Percy, then Charlie, then Bill, then George, then Fred sat next to her on her left. Ginny lit a candle and Bill flicked his hand and turned off the light with magic, closing the door as well.

"Once upon a time." Bill began in a voice the same but different from his. It was deep but not in a low sense, in a sense that it was like a whisper, that reached the corners of the darkest secrets, buried far below the world they knew, untold by any before.

Everyone told the story, together, as Amia listened with wide eyes, clutching her monkey pillow, delighted. It was a story of another world, ancient and beautiful. Of people, and non-people. Of outlaws. Of sinners and saints. Of magic. Of enchanted forests and deep seas and barren, desolate stretches of nothing. Of monsters. Of love and hatred. Of humanity and darkness and creatures unbeknownst to man. It was the most gorgeous thing Amia had ever heard. It was a story that never ended. Something about it was different from anything she'd ever heard before, and it made her feel something she didn't recognize, deep in her bones, so raw and pure and unknown, it almost made her want to cry, from the simple completeness of it. The story lulled Amia to sleep, her eyes drooping closed and her head resting on Fred's shoulder, the words whispering their way into her dreams. Even though they didn't know it, it was the most perfect birthday present she could have been given.

**P.S. Isn't the line up there beautiful? *Tears of happiness***

**Reviews or basically anything would be awesome! Love you guys!**


	5. Chapter 5: Scary Harry

**Author's Note: Okay hi guys, I literally have like one review telling me how to use the line thing :(. But I realize I just posted this story recently so I guess it's not too surprising. I'm going to be away for a little bit so I just posted this chapter anyway, and if when I come back there haven't been any more reviews or any of that stuff I'll not post another for a while. So just tell me what you think, and I guess we'll see how it goes :)**

Chapter 5: Scary Harry

"HA! You'll never defeat me with my mighty broom!" Ginny declared, brandishing her weapon.

Amia roared with laughter. "Foolish girl, your silly little broom doesn't stand a chance when facing my sword. It is powerful beyond compare!"

"A sword!" Ginny scoffed, looking at the weapon in Amia's hand disdainfully. "That is nothing but a useless old cane, little girl! No match for MY broom!"

"You see, that is where you are mistaken." Amia countered. "It is only disguised to look like a cane so that unworthy opponents such as you will underestimate its great strength and power. Ha ha! Now you will face the consequences of your ignorance!" She yelled and then lunged. Ginny charged as well and their wooden sticks clashed. Amia ducked and rolled and jumped onto the bed and slashed her sword at Ginny, while the other girl dodged and blocked and stabbed and sliced. She struck Amia's sword with a particularly strong hit and the younger stumbled back. Then she jumped off the bed and ran to the other side of the room. The two stood there, facing each other from opposite walls, breathing heavily. After a few moments they both raised their swords and charged at each other, screaming the fiercest battle cries they could manage while they ran. Just as their swords were about to meet, the door burst open. Both girls froze, swords ready to come crashing down, mouths wide open from their interrupted screams.

Charlie and Bill looked at them with wide eyes. Slowly they both lowered their weapons and laughed nervously.

"What are you doing?" Bill asked.

Amia rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly and Ginny gave a cautious smile. "Well," she began. "You see, we were battling."

"Battling." Charlie raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah. See? These are our swords." Amia pointed to the broom and cane on the ground.

It was silent for a moment, then Bill shook his head. "Alright, mum says for you two to come down for breakfast." And with that they took their leave. Amia and Ginny stood there for a moment, then turned to look at each other and began laughing hysterically. It took a full six minutes for them to compose themselves. When they did, Amia went down while Ginny stayed to look for her jumper. However, when she ran down the stairs, before she reached the floor she saw something strange. There was Fred and George and Ron, but there was also someone else. A dark haired boy with glasses and clothes too big for him, she let out a squeak and they looked up at her. The boy had brilliant green eyes a shade she'd never seen before. Amia's own eyes went wide and she ran right back upstairs. She passed Ginny as she went. She ran all the way back to the top floor where she continued to run to their room until she ran right into someone. She let out a muffled noise of surprise and fell back. From the floor she looked up to see it was Charlie. Amia rubbed her nose painfully and looked up at him.

"Sorry, Mia, I didn't see you there." He leaned over and set her back on her feet. "I thought you were going downstairs."

"There's someone down there." She whispered.

"Oh you saw him?" Charlie chuckled. "That's Ron's best friend, Harry Potter. Ron, Fred and George snuck out in the middle of the night to get him and then they got into huge trouble with mum."

"He's scary." Amia confided.

Charlie laughed. "Here, come down with me and you can meet him."

Amia recoiled. "What? I don't want to meet him! He's so . . . scary."

"Oh don't worry. He's just a kid, he's not scary at all. I'm sure you'll like him."

"I'm sure I won't!" Amia protested, but Charlie had already grabbed her arm and begun to drag her down to where they were eating breakfast.

At the bottom of the stairs he stopped and Amia inched behind him. He was broad and muscular enough to completely hide her from view; that is until he gave her a little push forward. "Harry, I'd like you to meet Amia. Amia this is Harry."

She turned bright red and stared at the ground. "Hi, Amia." Harry said pleasantly. She couldn't even look at him.

"Oh he's not that scary, see?" Charlie grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the strange boy. Amia dug her heels in but it did nothing to stop him from pulling her over to the table so she stood in front of Harry.

Amia squeezed her eyes shut and mumbled, "Hello." So quietly that not a single person in the room could hear her.

"What was that?" Charlie asked, amused.

"Hello." She whispered.

"I don't think he could hear you, sweetheart." Charlie said again.

"HELLO MY NAME IS AMIA AND YOU'RE REALLY SCARY GOOD-BYE!" Amia shouted, broke free of Charlie's grip, and ran back to her room, where she slammed the door behind her. Then she hid in the closet. As she sat underneath her and Ginny's clothes in the carpeted corner of the little space she closed her eyes. She just couldn't help it, he was so scary, with those bright green eyes and dark, dark hair.

She frowned, wondering if she looked scary as well. It was funny, but she when she tried, she couldn't even picture herself. All she could see was her Papa's face. Smiling as he tucked her into bed, watching a movie with such fierce concentration it always made her laugh, making faces over his book at her so she would giggle. That's all she could see.

The child closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. She had this new family, this new, wonderful family who she cared about so much, but she still couldn't stop herself from thinking about him. Professor Dumbledore hadn't spoken to her since the day she left the school, so she still had no idea what was going on. It made her heart hurt when she wondered what had happened to him. Her Papa, who even though he had seemingly killed that man, she still loved.

Amia pressed her palms over her eyes for a moment, then got up and crept to the bathroom, making sure that no one was up there. When she got there, she stood in front of the mirror and stared at her reflection. Now she couldn't see her Papa at all. Instead there was a little girl with olive skin, gray eyes that raged with barely concealed emotions, and long dark hair. Really long. Really, really long. Down past her waist long. It was almost darker than Harry's. Scary Harry. It rhymed. She shook her head. Did she look scary? Maybe a little. Her eyes were kind of scary she thought. Then she sighed. Now she was going to have to go back down and see Scary Harry again. She scrunched her face up in the mirror, then left.

Her journey back downstairs was a slow one, but, much to her dismay, she eventually got there. Everyone watched as she sat in a chair farthest from Scary Harry and sipped some juice. It was awkwardly silent for maybe 10 minutes until . . . amazingly, Errol, by crashing into the window, saved them from slipping into the collectively dreaded permanent uncomfortableness that they were soon going to be subjected to.

Apparently, there Hogwarts letters had arrived. Percy handed them all out and Amia practically tore hers open, she was so excited. There was a letter about being accepted into Hogwarts which she let her eyes skim over, then threw aside. Then there was the list of what they needed for second year classes. Amia read it twice in thirty seconds then a wide smile spread across her face. "Where are we going to get all of these things? Are we going to go to a shop? A shop with magic? A magic shop? A bunch of magic shops? In magic places? With magic things? And magic people? Lots of magic people? Are we going to buy them with magic money? So we can use the magic things in the magic school? Then we can learn to do magic with the magic things? And we can be magic people in a magic school using magic things to learn magic and then do magic? Is that what we're going to do?" By the end of her onslaught of questions she was completely out of breath and had to take a moment before she could speak again.

Charlie laughed. "It's almost as if you've never seen anything magic before. Let me remind you that you live in a house of magic."

"Yeah I know." Amia said quickly. "But I've never gone to a magic place with magic people to buy magic things with magic money so I can go to a magic school and become a magic person by using the magic things we buy at the magic shops in the magic place to learn how to do magic." After that she almost collapsed from shortness of breath.

"Amia." George put two steadying hands on her shoulders. "Breathe."

"If you die I get your monkey pillow. You don't want that do you?" Fred raised his eyebrows seriously.

She snapped her mouth shut and stared at him in horrified silence. No one said anything for a few seconds, then the twins began to laugh.

"You look like someone just suggested you rob Gringotts." George gasped out.

Amia just continued to look at Fred with wide, alarmed eyes.

"Don't worry, Mia, I promise I won't take your monkey pillow." Fred ruffled her hair and smiled. But she still said nothing. Just wordlessly stood and went to go get dressed.

* * *

A little while later Mrs. Weasley informed all the children that they would be going to Diagon Alley to get all of their school supplies. Amia was over the roof and practically leapt around the house for twenty minutes before Ginny dragged her to their room to get dressed. She got out a jean dress (with a white shirt for underneath), red tights, a black double buttoned jacket and some brown lace up boots that went just above her ankles for Amia to wear. Amia threw them on in twenty seconds then rushed down the stairs before Ginny could even say a word. The little girl was so excited she hardly even noticed when she ran into Scary Harry, that is until both of them were knocked down and his glasses flew off his face. She jumped up, cheeks bright red, handed him his glasses and ran off in a matter of seconds so she didn't have to talk to him.

However, much to her chagrin, Mrs. Weasley halted her in her tracks as she raced through the dining room. "Sweetheart, you can't go like that."

Amia looked down at her clothes in surprise. "Why not?"

A small, knowing smile was the response she got. Then Mrs. Weasley proceeded to straighten out her dress, tug on the sleeves of her shirt, re-button her coat, tie up the laces of her shoes, and brush the girl's long hair back into a French braid. Amia was so fidgety it took twice as long, but finally, _finally _they were ready.

**So reviews or any of that stuff would be wonderful. In fact probably wonderful enough to make me jump around the house singing hallelujah for the rest of the day. You get the picture, I would love some reviews.**

**Love you guys, Lost1nTheLight**


	6. Chapter 6: Panic Attack

**Author's Note: So apparently I was lying last chapter, I wasn't expecting to write another chapter today, but it turns out I just kind of . . . did. So yeah. (You guys should be impressed, six chapters in two days, amazing! I'm impressed with myself as terrible as that sounds.) I guess, if I write more chapters I'll just put them up, but I still stand by what I said in the last chapter, if when I'm back there aren't anymore reviews or anything I'll know you guys don't like the story and I'll stop (at least for a little while). But you know, it would be great if you could just review even if it's just to tell me you don't like the story (even though I hope that you do because I'm working really hard :)  
**

**So thanks so much, love you guys.**

Chapter 6: Panic Attack

"Why am I wearing a jacket?" Amia bounced on the balls of her feet. "It's summer."

"Because the weather's not very nice today." Mrs. Weasley answered with barely suppressed impatience.

"How are we going to get there?"

"You'll see in a moment."

"How am I going to get all those things?"

"You'll buy them."

"I don't have any money." She reminded her.

"We'll get them for you of course."

That's when Scary Harry cut in. "No, Mrs. Weasley please, let me get them for her."

Amia snapped her mouth shut, staring suspiciously at him.

"No dear, of course we couldn't do that –" Mrs. Weasley began but Scary Harry put up his hand and shook his head.

"It's fine. I want to."

"But she's our responsibility and . . ." She trailed off.

"Please, I would be happy to. Maybe she won't think I'm scary anymore if I do that." Scary Harry flashed a smile of brilliant white teeth, Amia scowled. Charlie chuckled.

"Or maybe instead of using anyone's money she'll steal all her supplies from the shops and not have to worry about it." Amia suggested.

All of them stared at her in shock. "Just kidding." She mumbled.

Fred and George exchanged a quick grin and then threw one arm over her shoulders each, leaning down. "You know, if you felt like pulling a prank –"

"Or making trouble –"

"We'd be happy –"

"To help."

"Alright, that's enough." Percy's face went slightly red. Amia giggled.

"Okay, Harry, have you ever used floo powder before, I know you haven't Amia." Mrs. Weasley cut in, rolling her eyes at the children's antics.

Harry shook his head.

"Okay, you just grab a handful of this powder, step into the fireplace and say the name of wherever you want to go. Make sure you speak very clear. Ron, you go first dear, show them how it's done." Mrs. Weasley ushered her son into the fireplace where he grabbed some powder (that looked very much like ash to Amia).

"Diagon Alley." He shouted, his words precise and sharp. Then he threw the powder down and, much to Amia's horror, was engulfed in green flames. She clapped her hands over her mouth and stared at where he had stood.

"He just caught fire." She whispered.

"It is fine, love, that's what's supposed to happen." Charlie put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Then it was Scary Harry's turn, except when he went he said something odd, that didn't sound quite like Diagon Alley. The others heard it too and Mrs. Weasley looked worriedly into the fireplace. Apparently it was _very _important to pronounce the words properly. Amia wasn't too concerned about it though. She was sure Scary Harry could handle himself. He was scarier than anyone she'd ever seen before so he would probably be fine.

"Alright Amia, you turn dear."

The little girl looked like she had been caught smuggling cookies. Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat? She didn't want to catch fire like everyone else! Catching fire was bad! Very bad! **(Except for the kind that's written by Suzanne Collins ;p)**

"Now if you do die, I'll take your monkey pillow." Fred joked.

Amia stared at him, unblinkingly, nostrils flared, eyes wide, mouth slightly open.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding." He laughed, Amia did not laugh with him. "Aren't you going to forgive me?"

Amia didn't even open her mouth to reply, just stepped into the fire place.

"Look what you've gotten yourself into this time Freddie, I'm afraid I can't pull you out of this one dear brother, you're going to have to find a way to make your own amends." George patted him on the shoulder sympathetically.

Amia refused to look at them, instead grabbing some powder and throwing it at her feet. "Diagon Alley." She declared and then she was gone.

It turns out that in fact she wasn't burned alive, but was spit out of a completely different fireplace, which wasn't completely fun either. It was better than dying though.

She brushed off her dress, stood, and froze. There were people _everywhere. _All over the place. It was like someone had left out a little honey and they were ants, swarming all around it. Her breath caught in her throat and she looked around wildly for the familiar red hair that would save her from this horde of humans. She had watched movies before where there were places like these, but she'd never imagined that there would be so many of them. Pressing so close together, moving around so quickly, talking so loudly. Someone shouldered past her and sent she stumbled back. Searching for at least one of the Weasleys with terrified eyes, she shrank away from all the people. But then another person brushed her arm from behind and she spun around. They were everywhere, and she didn't know what to do. It felt as if the crowd were converging upon her, even though most didn't even glance in her direction. She could feel the crushing mass of people everywhere. Her heart hammered relentlessly in her chest and then she spotted the exit, out into the sunlight. At first she tried not to touch anyone as she made her way to the doorway, but soon she discovered that she would never get away from all these people that way. So she resorted to shoving her way through them.

When she broke free of the crowd's invisible hands, she sank to the ground, breathing heavily. A boot came down on her fingers and she let out a muffled cry, yanking her hands away from whoever it was. She looked up and saw an angry man walking away grumbling to himself.

That's when she caught sight of them. Everywhere, they were everywhere, out here as well. The child scrambled away until her back hit a wall. There were so many people. So many of them. She curled into a ball, clutching her injured hand to her chest, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply. Where was her family? Why weren't they here?

"Come and find me." She whispered. "Please come and find me." But no one appeared.

A terrible sick feeling began to grow in her stomach, creeping up to her chest and making her eyes water. She wiped at them with the back of her hand but the sick feeling stayed, growing worse and worse with each minute that ticked by. She covered her face with her hands and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

But they didn't come. They didn't come and so she just sat there, alone, trying to block out all the noise. It was so loud. So, so loud. Amia began to wonder what would happen if no one found her ever. Would she keep sitting here, on her own, for the rest of her life? Would she have to beg for food? Or maybe she could steal it? How long would she survive? What about in winter, when it would be cold and snowy, would she have to sleep out here, on the street, and freeze to death? Would her lips turn blue and her skin go white? Would they find her and when they tried to lift her would she shatter into a million pieces? Would the Weasleys miss her? At least Scary Harry wouldn't have to buy her school supplies anymore. She would never ever see her Papa again. The thought made her nose tickle and her eyes well up. She sniffed and brushed them away.

Then a hand came down on her shoulder. The little girl whimpered and leaned away, not even looking at who it might be this time.

"Amia? Are you okay?" The voice was familiar. Her head snapped up to stare into brilliant green eyes. And there was Scary Harry, right in front of her.

Amia practically leapt into his arms and burst into tears right there. Harry rubbed her back comfortingly, although a little hesitantly. "Are you alright? What happened?" He asked.

"The – there were so many people and – and –" She hiccupped.

"Here, let's go find the Weasleys, alright?" He took her hand and together they made their way through the crowd. It was funny but when she was walking with Harry everything was okay, it wasn't scary at all. She gave a tiny smile through her tears and held his hand a little tighter.

**I hope it was at least sort of okay . . . maybe . . . review and tell me what you think! Also, did I do that right with the whole floo powder thing? I lost the book and so I'm kind grasping at ropes here. If I messed it up I'm really sorry and I'll rewrite it if you want, so let me know if that was okay or if it was completely wrong.  
**

**Love, **

**Lost1nTheLight**


	7. Chapter 7: Malfoy Wig

**Author's Note: This is the last chapter I'm going to be able to update for a little while. It's not as interesting as the others which I apologize for, but I kind of rushed to finish it because this is the last chance I'm going to get to post it for a few days and I just kind of wanted to :) Anyway, sorry that it's kind of boring, I hope that you still at least kind of like it. I promise that the it's going to get really interesting the next few chapters when she gets to go to Hogwarts, okay? Also I wanted to say thank you so much for your wonderful, beautiful review etrim94, I'm not even joking it's the nicest thing anyone's said to me in a while and it made my day. Basically you're the reason I wrote this chapter and updated it so thanks so much, sorry it couldn't be better.  
**

**xoxo**

Chapter 7: Malfoy Wig

By the time Amia and Harry reached the Weasleys, the tears had stopped but her eyes were red and swollen and her hand became increasingly painful to move. When Mrs. Weasley spotted her, she ran and scooped the child up in her arms.

"Oh Amia, sweetheart! We were so worried! What happened?" She cried.

So Amia told them about all the people and the noise and Harry finding her. At that Mrs. Weasley crushed Harry into a hug as well.

"Thank you so much, dear." She gave him a pat on the head. "Well, I'm glad you're okay, why don't you hold Charlie's hand so you don't get lost again?" Mrs. Weasley smoothed back Amia's hair and let her go. But when Charlie went grab onto her hand (the one Harry had not been holding), she yelped and pulled it back.

"What's wrong?" He frowned at her.

"Someone stepped on my hand. It hurts." A sniffle escaped her and Amia shut her mouth, not wanting to cry again.

"Here, we'll fix it up when we get home, alright?" Charlie crouched down in front of her. "How about a piggy back ride?"

Amia's eyes instantly lit up and she climbed onto the boy's broad back, resting her face against his shirt and closing her eyes. To put it quite simply, she was so glad to be back with them, that if he asked her to, she would have forgiven Fred for wanting to take her monkey pillow away, and that was not something to be taken lightly.

* * *

They got everything but the books, which they saved for last. Amia was completely thrilled every time they did so much as enter a store, even when they went into the cauldron shop and she got stuck inside one (a long story). Harry, as he said he would, bought all of her things for her despite Mrs. Weasley's protests. Slowly, Amia decided that although he was scary, she also liked him quite a lot.

At one point the group separated and Mr. Weasley, Ginny, and Mr. Weasley went off to buy some robes, Percy went who knows where, Fred and George went to hide frogs in the wizard hats shop, and Charlie, Amia, Harry and Ron went to get her a wand (Bill hadn't joined them on the trip because he had work to do).

As they walked into the store, Amia was almost glowing with excitement. Inside it was silent, the light from the windows illuminating shelves upon shelves of thin, long boxes. Particles of dust floated through the air, a few landing on Amia's nose, causing her to sneeze. At the noise a man appeared from behind one of the shelves. His misty eyes took the four children in as they did him. To be truthful Amia was the only one who hadn't met Mr. Ollivandor before, but the other three couldn't help but look him over as well. No matter how many times they came to him, he was always something of a sight to behold, with his wispy white hair, and eyes that seemed to almost stare right through them.

"Ah, Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, Charlie Weasley." He bowed his head to the boys. Amia was mesmerized. The man was almost dreamlike, as if wasn't quite real. The corners of his mouth twitched downward. "And who might you be?"

"This is Amia, sir." Charlie told him, adjusting the girl on his back.

A puzzled expression passed over his face for a moment then disappeared. "I see. A wand for you then?"

It was silent. Ron gave her a nudge to respond. She jumped and nodded distractedly, staring at the man. She simply couldn't take her eyes off him. "Ah, then we'll be needing your measurements."

Charlie knelt on the ground and Amia climbed off his back, watching in amazement as a measuring tape arranged itself vertically, horizontally, and in all kinds of directions she hadn't realized existed on its own. Charlie put a hand on her shoulder once the tape was finished.

Mr. Ollivandor tapped his chin and wandered off into his maze of shelves, muttered to himself. "Alright then, let's see."

Amia turned to look at the three boys. "He's so cool!" She exclaimed in an exaggerated whisper. Ron raised his eyebrows skeptically while Harry gave her a strange look and Charlie chuckled.

"Not exactly how I would describe but . . ." He shrugged.

"Yeah, maybe the words odd, mental and –" Ron began to reply but Charlie quickly clapped a hand over his brother's mouth as Ollivandor popped out from behind a shelf carrying one of those narrow boxes. Amia stifled a giggle as he gave Ron a suspicious look. Then, very carefully, he removed the lid of the box and took out a stick. More poetically it was long and slender and the dark wood had been masterfully carved so the sides were elegantly rounded and it balanced perfectly on top of the strange man's fingers. But to Amia it just looked like a stick.

"Try this," he placed the wand gently in her hand. Amia looked up at him and he gave a small nod. She raised the wand and waved slightly. Apparently that was not a good thing to do because the piece of wood flew from her hand and all the way across the room. She cringed and stepped back. "It seems like that one is a no." Ollivandor murmured and went to get another.

This continued for maybe another half hour until finally he handed her one that did not destroy anything when she held it. The wand looked old. It was made of dark wood and at the tip it looked almost like it would start to crack at any moment. In her hand it felt . . . strong, but light at the same time. It felt right.

Mr. Ollivandor gave an approving nod and said something about the wood it was made of and tears and twelve inches but Amia wasn't listening. Instead she was thinking of her Papa's wand, and the green light that came out of it, and the man – the man she knew nothing about – falling to the floor. What kind of a spell would someone have to do to make something like that happen? She stared at her wand for a long time, until Charlie gave her braid a tug.

Amia jumped and looked up at him. He gestured to his back and on she climbed, holding the wand close to her chest protectively.

Harry and Ron had collapsed onto two chairs long ago and it took a moment for them to groan and get back onto their feet. But after ten years they did.

As they left the shop Amia glanced back at Mr. Ollivandor, perhaps to wave good bye, but before her hand froze before she could raise it. He was watching her rather oddly, with a confused expression on his face, eyes narrowed slightly. For some reason her heart began to beat faster and she quickly turned back around, keeping her face hidden in Charlie's shirt even when they'd long since left the shop behind.

* * *

The four met up with the others at Flourish and Blotts a little while later, having bought everything but their books. Outside, the rest of the Weasleys were standing with another girl who Amia didn't recognize, waiting for them. "Harry! Ron! It's so good to see you!" The girl cried and ran to throw her arms around the two boys.

"Hermione!" Harry greeted her, smiling widely, and although Ron tried not to seem so enthusiastic Amia could tell he was happy to see her as well. She guessed that this must be the other best friend from school Ron had told her about before.

"Hermione, this is Amia." Ron mumbled once the reunion was finished. "Amia, this is Hermione."

"Hi!" Amia chirped from over Charlie's shoulder.

"Hello! It's lovely to meet you Amia, I've heard quite a lot about you." Hermione smiled up at the girl and Amia's cheeks went the tiniest bit red. She didn't seem nearly as scary as Harry.

That was all well and good but the moment they went stepped into Flourish and Blotts Amia stopped listening to anything anyone was saying. There were so many people here that even from on Charlie's back she had to squeeze her eyes shut and grip his shirt tightly, taking deep breaths. It was even more crowded than the place she'd first came out of the fireplace into. Panic swelled up in her throat and she clenched her jaw determinedly.

Vaguely, she was aware of flashing lights around her, a man talking in an annoyingly arrogant voice, and the name Gilderoy Lockhart, but she refused to open her eyes and see what was going on.

It seemed to take ages for them to get out of there, and when they finally did Charlie was only able to take about two steps without stopping.

"Bet you loved that, didn't you Potter?" Someone said in an irritating drawl. Amia peeked up from Charlie's shoulder. In front of them stood a boy with hair so blond it was almost white and a scowl planted on his face. "_Famous _Harry Potter," he sneered. "Can't even go to a _book shop _without making the front page." Amia crinkled her nose. His voice was really quite annoying and she felt like if she listened to him speak any longer her ears might be permanently damaged.

Ginny was the one whole told the boy off, and Amia started to giggle at the face he made from being scolded by a girl younger than himself.

"And who might _you _be?" It took a moment for Amia to realize the question was directed at her.

"A human." She responded, and it was almost funny because she wasn't scared of this boy whatsoever. That meant that it must be the good people she was scared of, and the . . . somewhat pathetic ones like the one in front of her made less of an impression. It was actually strange to watch the boy, because she'd never met anyone who was deliberately mean before. It seemed kind of idiotic to act like that for no reason, because what was the point? Amia didn't get it and she thought the boy was being stupid. She also felt the tiniest bit bad for him because if he went around hating everyone so much, he was never going to realize all the wonderful people there were around him.

Ron came over as the boy opened his mouth to undoubtedly make a biting, and probably stupid remark.

Amia watched as the boy's father (who had impressive long blond hair) and Mr. Weasley joined them, and to her astonishment (and admittedly excitement) they ended up getting into a fight. The child watched, eyes wide as Mrs. Weasley and Hagrid – much to Amia's delight (she hadn't known he was here) – broke the two families apart and led the Weasleys, Amia, Harry and Hermione away.

As they pushed their way through the crowd to get back to the fireplace that would take them back home, Amia commented, "One day I'm going to cut off the father's hair and make it into a wig."

Her statement was met with silence. Amia decided that obviously no one had expected such a sincere, intelligent goal to come out of her mouth. Apparently that was not what everyone was thinking because they all started to laugh a few seconds later. The girl frowned. She thought it was a very reasonable declaration.

**Please review so I know if I should keep going. Love you guys so much,**

**Lost1nTheLight**


	8. Chapter 8: A Secret

**Author's Note: So, uh, yeah, I'm back. I have no idea if anyone actually reads these things but whatever. This chapter is kind of boring. Sorry. Not as boring as the last one though, and the next ones will be better I hope. To be honest here I'm just kind of guessing at what anyone thinks when they read the story. I can see how right now it's pretty boring, and not fabulously written or anything, and truthfully I don't know if I would even read it if I wasn't the one who wrote it, so I'm sorry if it's not very good. I'm doing my best but I would love some suggestions or just your opinion on it. So read and review and follow and favourite and do all that good stuff. It would really seriously make my day. Unless you were telling me you hated it, but even if that's what you want to say by all means go ahead, I just want to know what you think.  
**

Chapter 8: A Secret

Amia's jaw dropped to the ground. She clutched the back of Ginny's shirt while she stared. In front of her stood a huge, scarlet, _train. _Never before had she seen anything of the sort and it made her eyes pop right out of her head (not literally because that would be slightly problematic). Ginny glanced back, excitement written all over her face. The two girls shared a giddy smile and made their way to where Charlie was packing their bags into the train.

"Alright girls," he brushed his hands off on his pants as if he'd just performed an extraordinary feat. "You're all set." The two went to run onto the train but were both caught by the collar. They backtracked and looked up to see Charlie's stern face. "Say good bye to mum first, you little troublemakers. Jeez, you're so excited you're forgetting about your own family." Identical sheepish smiles crossed both their lips.

"Right." Ginny nodded and they pushed through the crowd to find Mrs. Weasley. Amia kept her eyes trained on the back of the other girl's shirt, gripping it tightly enough that you couldn't pry her fingers away with a crowbar. She walked resolutely, heart pounding, making sure not to bump into anyone. The memory of the last time she'd been around so many people remained fresh in her mind and she was determined not repeat the experience.

"Girls, there you are. I was just telling Fred and George not to rush off before the two of you had found a place to sit." Mrs. Weasley gave the twins a look. They grinned mischievously. "Now, be good you two, I know you'll be in different classes but stick close to each other, alright?" She placed her hands on the two little girls' shoulders. "Be sure to write and tell us all about your sorting and your classes and make friends. Oh! And don't forget to study hard. Don't get into too much trouble. Ginny, remember your robes are under your cauldron in your trunk. Amia, I packed your favourite pyjamas. And do you really need to take that silly pillow everywhere you go?" Amia nodded seriously. Mrs. Weasley sighed, then her eyes began to fill up with tears as she hugged them both tightly. "Well, have a wonderful time. Remember I love you! If you need anything ask your brothers!" Ginny nodded impatiently and tugged Amia away, her cheeks red from embarrassment. Amia wasn't embarrassed at all though. In fact she felt almost proud to have people who loved her. It made her grin from ear to ear as she said farewell to Charlie and followed Ginny onto the train.

"Where'd Fred and George go?" She whispered once they were finding their way to an empty compartment. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Probably to set someone's robes on fire. Harry and Ron are the ones I'm worried about." She confided as they peered into a compartment where a group of older boys were chucking jelly beans at each other. Amia shrugged helplessly.

Eventually, they found Hermione sitting alone in a compartment. "Um, pardon me," Ginny caught the bushy haired girl's attention. "Do you mind if we sit here?"

"No, of course not, go ahead." Hermione gestured to the empty seats, somewhat distractedly. "Hey, have either of you seen Ron or Harry?"

Both shook their heads in unison. Hermione let out a frustrated sigh and turned to look back out the window.

After a few more moments of uncomfortable silence Amia shifted uncomfortably. "So are you Ron's other best friend?"

Hermione looked surprised at the question and her cheeks went slightly red. "We-well I suppose, but we fight a _lot, _so I'm not sure 'best friend' is an accurate description." She stuttered.

"Of course it is! Ron talks about you and Harry all the time at home. He likes to say you're really annoying but when he forgets everyone's listening he'll say something nice, then blush lots and lots. He says that the three of you went on lots of adventures last year and you're _really _good at magic." Amia chirped cheerfully.

"H-he said all that?" Hermione asked, eyes wide with astonishment.

Quickly, Amia covered her mouth. "Except make sure you don't tell him I told you, or he'll get really mad and his ears will get all red and his eyes will go all squinty and it's kind of freaky."

Ginny giggled and nodded.

"Well that's a surprisingly good description of him." Hermione commented thoughtfully, then all three began to laugh.

However they were no longer laughing when the train left the station and neither Harry nor Ron had appeared. Worriedly, Hermione stuck her head out the door to peer down the hallway but they were nowhere in sight.

"Oh don't worry about them, I'm sure Ron must have gotten them into some silly argument with another student. He likes to do that kind of thing." Ginny waved her hand dismissively, but the other two weren't convinced.

Finally, they decided to split up and look for them. Amia was not very fond of this arrangement seeing as she'd have to brave the wilderness of the vast train, packed with ferocious students all on her own, but she kept her mouth shut because she didn't want them to think she was a scaredy-cat.

While the other two went off she hesitantly went up to the compartment door nearest to her. Before knocking she paused and glanced to where their own compartment door sat open, wondering if she could perhaps hide in there and then pretend she'd searched when Ginny and Hermione returned. But she decided that the two boys really did need to be found so she gathered up all of her courage and brought her small fist down on the wood.

It took a moment for the door to open and when it did, Amia winced. It was the blond boy with the father who had hair that made for an excellent wig. He seemed much scarier now that she faced him on her own, then when she'd looked down at him from up on Charlie's back.

The boy raised an eyebrow disgustedly, and two much larger boys stood up behind him, crossing their arms. This seemed all too much like a standoff and Amia thought it was hardly fair the blond boy got two bodyguards while she didn't even have her monkey pillow to rescue her.

"Um, h-hello." The words barely made it out of her mouth and she went bright red at the stutter.

"What do _you _want?" He sneered, looking her up and down like some kind of science experiment gone wrong.

"I was only wondering if you'd seen either Harry Potter or Ron Weasley." She said defensively.

"If I had I would probably have to cover my eyes for the rest of the ride so I could recover from the trauma at looking at the Weasley's stupid face. Though that's not nearly as bad as Potter's over confident stride. Idiots." He spat.

Amia was taken aback. "What a mean thing to say. I don't think Ron's face is stupid at all. You're the one with the slicked back hair after all."

The boy's face contorted in anger as he took a step towards her. She took a step back.

"Who are you to have the right to speak to me in such a way?"

"I have the right to speak to anyone how I want to speak to them. Who are you to have the right to speak about Harry and Ron like that is the question." Amia retorted.

"I'm Draco Malfoy, and I'll speak about them however I please. You on the other hand, shouldn't even be looking at me. I bet you're a filthy mudblood like that Granger girl."

"Well I bet you're a . . ." Amia searched for an insult to match his, which was difficult because she had no idea what a mudblood is. "You're a rabbit faced sponge soaked with an ego too big to keep inside your head." That was either the worst insult created in the history of bad insults of the best insult created in the history of brilliant insults because it made him pause and give her a look like she had one too many pieces of bubble gum and it was starting to affect her brain.

"Who are you anyway?" A contemptuous glance at her patched up overalls told her that maybe she shouldn't give him that kind of ammo, but it seemed the sequence of logical thoughts in her head was broken by a not so good impulse to retort because she blurted, "Amia. I'm Amia."

"And you're staying with the Weasleys?" He scoffed. "No wonder you aren't able to say a single intelligent thing, their ignorant ways must have already infected your poor brain."

"Excuse me." She put her hands on her hips and glared. "What ignorant ways might you be talking about? I'm not the one going around saying that people have mud in their blood."

At that moment Hermione arrived at Amia's side. She gave Draco Malfoy a nasty look, grabbed Amia's arm, spun on her heel, and pulled the child away. "You're making a fool of yourself Amia." Hermione murmured in her ear as she led her back to their compartment.

"How come?" Amia asked as she sat down. Hermione just shook her head. A frustrated noise came from the younger one and she looked at Hermione with pleading eyes. "You're so smart Hermione. I never know what to say about anything. I'm going to sound like an idiot for the rest of my life."

Hermione's eyes softened and she smiled. "No you won't, you don't sound like an idiot now anyways, just stay away from Malfoy. He'll cut you right down in less than a second. Anyway, you just aren't used to this yet, once you get comfortable with everything that's going on, I bet you'll be able to take Malfoy. Here, why don't you stay with me, and I can help you get used to it all. After all, at times it's not particularly thrilling to be the only girl in our group, and since you'll be in the same year, it will be perfect."

At that Amia perked up. "Okay! Thanks Hermione! You're awesome!" And once again the other girl blushed, her cheeks so red they were almost scarlet.

* * *

"Ginny! Ginny! Look at that!" Amia whispered harshly into the ear of the red headed girl.

Ginny didn't even look, just nodded and shushed her quietly. But Amia couldn't help it, when she had been in the castle last she'd never seen the Great Hall. It was, in one word, magnificent. The ceiling shone with the evening stars and candles floated above, unsupported. Four long tables ran the length of the enormous room, and at the front one more sat, facing all the others. All the old people sat in that one, Amia guessed they must be the teachers because no students would ever look so ancient.

Okay, they weren't all ancient, but Professor Dumbledore sat in the very middle (looking slightly royal in his deep blue robes and long white hair and beard), so he kind of gave off a sense of ancientness to the rest of them. Amia could see Hagrid there, who she waved to happily, as well as Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape. She wasn't able to spot Madam Pomfrey, but who knew if she even went down to the feast?

Harry and Ron hadn't shown, not even when they got off the train, but once Amia entered the Great Hall she hardly had any space in her mind except for complete awe.

Before them sat a small stool with an old hat on it. One that, it turned out, could sing. Now McGonagall was standing next to it, with a piece of paper in her hands. Amia watched as she read off the names of the first year students and, much to her amazement, they sat under the hat so they could be sorted into one of the four houses. Charlie had explained it all to her earlier but it still came as something of a shock when the first boy (a Ravenclaw) was greeted by wild clapping and cheering from one of the tables.

She also wasn't prepared for what came when Professor McGonagall read off the name, "Amia Riddle." The Hall went completely silent, not even a whisper was uttered. Amia frowned and made her way up to where Professor McGonagall gave her a nod, and then climbed onto the stool. Before the hat was lowered over her eyes she caught a glimpse of the students. They were staring at her, some looked almost hostile. Even Hermione was giving her a look she wasn't able to identify. The only comforting thing to be seen was Ginny giving her a thumbs up from the crowd of first years.

When the hat landed on her head, it began to talk to her. Yes, it really did talk to her. "Oh you're a mysterious one, aren't you?" The voice whispered in her head. "No idea where you're supposed to go, who you're supposed to be, I wonder. A core of indecisiveness lies within you, girl, that indecisiveness is going to hurt you in the long run." Amia frowned, she thought she was supposed to be getting sorted. Not being told that she didn't know anything by a hat. "I see. You don't want to hear any of this. You don't want to be told what you already know. But you're going to need to be told sometime, and by hat is as good as by anyone else, don't you agree? Well, where should I put you then? Judging by who you were raised by Slytherin seems to be the natural choice, but I don't think so. Hufflepuff? No. Too stubborn and iron-hearted for that. Ravenclaw? I don't think so." Amia was slightly offended by that. "How about an experiment then? It will be interesting to see how you do. Who you will become. Alright then, GRYFFINDOR!" The hat suddenly screamed so loud it made her jump.

Quickly she pushed it off her head and hopped down the stairs to the Gryffindor table. At first they were hesitant to cheer, looking almost confused, but in the end they were as loudly for as they had for everyone else.

Amia ran to sit beside Fred and George and Hermione. The twins pinched her cheeks and teased her and messed her hair, but Amia was distracted. Through the meal she stared up at where the hat had sat, frowning. What had it said? Judging by who she was raised by Slytherin was the natural choice? What was that supposed to mean? Why had it said that? What did her Papa have to do with anything?

She ended up thinking about it right up until she settled down under the blankets of the room she shared with Hermione and a few other girls. She couldn't concentrate on anything else. Just that single sentence. What did it mean? What did everyone know about her Papa that she didn't? It plagued her thoughts even in her sleep, and when she woke up, even though she hadn't realized it, her cheeks were wet and she tasted salt.

**Review or any of that stuff and I will love you forever (unless you're like an axe murderer, then maybe not). **

**Lost1nTheLight**


	9. Chapter 9: The Horrific Lockhart

**Author's Note: Alright. This chapter is not the best that I've written but I kind of had to set everything up at Hogwarts, and start off her year there, so this is it. Now that she's there and she's more comfortable and blah blah blah lots more interesting stuff will happen that actually makes sense and that people actually want to read. So you guys know the whole thing. Reviews make me happy therefore making me update more quickly and so on and so forth. (At this point not really sure if anyone actually does want me to update or if I'm just talking to empty air.) Anyways, I apologize for this chapter being not so good but now that it's over with we can get to the better stuff.  
**

Chapter 9: The Horrific Lockhart

"Why was everyone looking at me like that last night?" Amia asked, frowning at her messily made bed.

"Like what?" Hermione raised her eyebrows innocently. Amia gave her a look.

"Like I had attacked their grandmothers."

Hermione dismissed it with a casual wave of her hand. "Oh, that was just the Slytherins. They were probably told some ridiculous ancient story about the evil of the Riddles by their fathers. But really I think it was because they'd heard of you."

"Heard of me? Heard what about me? How could they have heard of me?"

"Well many students here have parents who work in the Ministry, and so they're bound to have been told something. Probably just about how you just appeared one night, and no one really knows anything about you."

"You were giving me that look too." Amia pointed out, crossing her arms, eyebrows raised.

"No I wasn't, I was just surprised. I thought they would have put you down as a Weasley. I mean I really don't know you're whole story, only that you went to stay with Ronald and his family after coming out of the hospital wing. To be honest I don't know anything about you at all."

Amia said nothing, just lowered her eyes to the ground. After a few seconds of silence, Hermione spoke again.

"That's okay though. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I mean, maybe when we're better friends I'll be able to understand, but for now I won't ask you to share anything you don't want to." Hermione amended, giving Amia a pat on the shoulder as she left the dormitory.

Amia stared after her, even when she was out of sight. She couldn't decide if that was one of the nicest things anyone had ever said to her, or if she should chalk it up to cool indifference. The child squeezed her eyes shut and sat on the bed. Being around people was so hard, especially trying to make friends. With her Papa she knew exactly how everything was, but here she didn't know how to perceive things at all. How on earth was she supposed to decipher this strange code they talked in? Leaving little hints but never simply telling people outright how they felt. It was far too confusing to be good for her brain and she suspected that if she continued to think about it she would implode.

* * *

So this is what happened after that: Harry and Ron got a _hilarious _howler from Mrs. Weasley., after which Amia insisted they tell her the story of what happened (when they did she was laughing for ages, although slightly hurt she hadn't gotten to go with them). Amia almost had a panic attack when breakfast was over and they had to walk to their classes, but Harry grabbed her hand and held it the rest of the way, so she was okay. Hermione turned out to be super smart and somewhat of a know-it-all in Herbology where Amia got to wear ear muffs for the first time.

Then it was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Amia was just starting to adjust to things and get comfortable when she walked in and saw _him. _He had golden hair. Turquoise almost shimmering with perfection. And an impeccable smile with teeth so white they could blind you. Instantly, she knew. She knew there was no going back after one good look at those sparking eyes. She knew that his gleaming smile held the truest of all truths for her. The little girl's heart began to pound. Her cheeks went red, eyes wide.

Yes, she knew. Without a doubt, Gilderoy Lockhart was the most terrifying man she'd ever laid eyes on. Silently she clutched Harry's hand a little tighter and he looked over at her in surprise. "What's wrong?" He whispered, frowning.

"Ummm," she murmured. "I don't feel so good. Maybe I should go see Madam Pomfrey. It's probably a fever and I won't be able to come back to class."

"Oh no you don't." Hermione interjected before Harry could get a word out. "You don't have a fever so there's no way I'm letting you miss class. Especially one as important as this one. I mean, Professor Lockhart has so much experience, and he's _so _brave. I bet he'll be a fantastic teacher." She gushed.

Amia gave her a strange look and slowly inched away, but Hermione was having none of it. She grabbed her hand and pulled her inside. "Come on, I'm sure you'll learn to love him."

Amia and Hermione ended up sitting in a seat in the very front row, much to the younger of the two's displeasure, while Harry and Ron fortunately escaped to the back. Amia shot them a look of pure hatred for leaving her stranded with a Hermione bubbling over in excitement and a frightening teacher who looked like a mannequin. However before they could try and wordlessly beg for her forgiveness from their seats she was distracted by the doll himself.

Lockhart cleared his throat. Amia cringed as Hermione elbowed her none to gently so she would turn around. The man picked up the book of a boy who Amia thought might have a toad. His name was Nelvin or something strange like that.

"Me." The teacher who Amia thought was getting creepier and creepier by the second announced, pointing at a portrait on the cover of the book of himself. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, third class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League and five times winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award – but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Brandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

No one laughed. As he had been talking it slowly dawned on Amia that this man wasn't scary at all, he was just a self centered, egotistical jerk. "Well aren't you humble," Amia murmured under her breath. Hermione's face went scarlet and she kicked Amia's leg under the table hard. Lockhart didn't seem to have heard her though and continued.

"I see you've all brought a complete set of my books – well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about – just to check you've read them, how much you've taken in . . ."

Amia barely glanced down at the test paper he had handed her when he told them to begin, but Hermione gave her a death glare so she reluctantly settles into her chair and read over the questions.

1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?

"Well this is a fine test. Who the heck is going to learn the answers to these?" She whispered to Hermione but the other girl was scribbling diligently. After a moment of incredulous staring, Amia got down to work.

1. The Doll's favourite colour is the colour of an extra-large ego speckled with a hint of self centered stupidity.

2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?

The Doll's secret ambition is to one day open an ice cream shop in the middle of a river that has ice cream flavours ranging from 'I'm so awesome' to 'Awesomer than you'.

3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?

The Doll's greatest achievement is brushing his teeth for hours straight when he was a little kid to make them now permanently white and blinding.

And that's how it continued for a full thirty minutes. Until:

54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?

"Oh my goodness," Amia muttered, exasperated. "How thick headed can you make yourself sound on a piece of paper?" That received another kick from Hermione.

54. The Doll's birthday is on Relember 64th, (born in 1408), and his ideal gift would be a bottle of Self-Humbling Hair Gel.

Amia had zoned out when Lockhart had collected and began talking about the papers. Though she did hear him mention Hermione having top marks. It was when he called her name that she snapped to attention. "Now, now, Amia, I've been informed that you are, in fact, a year younger than the rest of these students but even so, I'm still rather concerned that you think my birthday is on Relember 64th. You realize that is not a month, don't you little girl? Has no one taught you these things before? And don't you know that it's impossible for me to have be born in 1408?" He looked genuinely perplexed and Amia had to hold back her smile. She just gave a sigh and innocent shrug of her shoulders. "Yes, and now that I look at you're test I see you haven't got a single question right. Oh this is quite concerning. What on earth would have ever led you to believe that my secret ambition is to one day open an ice cream shop in the middle of a river that has ice cream flavours ranging from 'I'm so awesome' to 'Awesomer than you'? Also, I'm not sure if you're aware of this but an extra-large ego speckled with a hint of self centered stupidity is not a real colour. And look, here's something else rather worrisome. Why in Merlin's name do you keep calling me 'The Doll'." By now the entire class was turning red from trying to cover their snickers. Except for Hermione, who was fuming. "My dear, are you feeling quite alright today?"

"Yep. I'm feeling perfectly fine." Amia told him cheerfully.

"Well I think that it's best if you come with me." That caught her attention. She was about to protest – she didn't want to spend any more time with this creepy dude than necessary – but he continued. "Meanwhile, I have brought some most dangerous and foul creatures for the class to take on. Be warned. They can be devilish little tricksters!" He exclaimed dramatically. Then whipped the cover off a cage that had been sitting on his desk. Then, before anyone could even laugh at what was inside, he flung the little door open and a swarm of what looked almost like pixies flew out. The class erupted into chaos, and much to Amia's disbelief, instead of staying to actually teach something, Lockhart grabbed her hand and ran out.

In the hallway she yanked her arm away but kept her mouth shut, refusing to even look at the man (still reeling from disgust at his behaviour) much less talk to him.

He dragged her all the way to some staff room or something like that, where he burst in with a flourish of his magnificent robes. Amia followed behind, keeping a safe distance from The Doll.

Professor Snape, Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout were the only three teachers residing in the room when they came hurrying in. Professor Snape looked up with an expression of annoyance. "What is it?" He snapped.

"Well professors, I believe we have a serious issue on our hands. This student here, Amia, seems to either be mentally unstable or has been taught nothing at all, not even the months of the year." Lockhart explained in a rush.

"Rude." Amia remarked quietly, and she thought she might have seen Professor Flitwick's eyes spark with amusement for a second.

"And what, _professor, _leads you to believe such a thing?" Professor Snape asked dryly, raising his eyebrows.

So The Doll told them all about the test. Amia had to turn away so he wouldn't see her trying not to laugh. Realization seemed to flood over the three professors as The Doll explained (using animated hand gestures). "If anyone has mental issues I'm quite certain it's you, Lockhart, and not this child." Snape remarked. The Doll's mouth drifted open as Professor Sprout shushed the potions master.

"Don't worry Professor, we'll take care of this immediately. Now why don't you go back to your class and do your best to teach them something useful?" Professor Sprout smiled patronizingly and The Doll left the room with a confused expression on his face, obviously with no idea as to what had just happened. Professor Snape left in a flurry of billowing robes after that as well, although Amia swore she saw a hint of a smile cross his lips as he did.

"Now dear, class will be ending soon so why don't you go join your friends?" Professor Sprout suggested in a voice much kinder than the one she used with The Doll.

"So . . . I'm not in trouble?" Amia asked slowly, because you could never know with adults.

Professor Flitwick began to laugh. "Not at all, child. I think that's exactly what that excuse of a man needed. You just keep up the good work. Brilliant, brilliant."

So Amia left the teacher's room feeling rather proud of herself, and undoubtedly smug.

* * *

Harry and Ron burst into laughter after she finished telling them what had happened in the staff room. "Amia, you're my new best friend." Ron gasped through fits of giggles.

"Seriously," Harry nodded, wiping tears from his eyes. "You're my favourite person right now."

Even though she knew they were joking around, it made her smile from ear to ear to think that she could be part of their group. That she could have friends. She'd never had those before and it felt nice – wonderful – to laugh and talk with them.

That was until Hermione stormed up to where the three sat. "Amia!" She shouted, hands on her hips, eyes blazing. "What on earth is wrong with you? How could you put such things in your test? Making fun of a teacher like that! Disgraceful. You should be ashamed. I can't believe you would do such a thing!"

Amia was taken aback by this sudden torrent of angry yelling. "Hermione," she said slowly. "I apologize to you, because it made you angry, but I don't apologize to The Doll, because he is a jerk!" Hermione gasped and stepped back, as if Amia had just named all the swear words she had in her vocabulary. "He's a fraud and a cheat and he is rude! He said that he thought I had mental issues! Are you going to take the side of the guy who said that I had mental issues?" She challenged. Harry and Ron stayed silent, watching the scene unfold.

"Well I wouldn't blame him for thinking it! After all you did write all of those ridiculous things in the test." Hermione countered.

"The things I wrote were ten times less ridiculous than the test itself, and who do you think wrote that?" Amia cried, slightly hurt that the other girl thought it was reasonable for someone to think she had mental issues. "Just look at the facts. He looks like a mannequin. He started off the class by rattling off a list of his – probably fake – achievements. He gave us a test fifty four questions long that was just completely about him, had nothing to do with Defense Against the Dark Arts. He thinks I have mental issues. Guessing by what I saw in the staff room even the other teachers think he's a total fake. And he probably practices his smile in the mirror. I mean, have you learned nothing in all your time around humans? You can never trust someone who practices their smile in the mirror. Never." Amia finished.

"You know, she does present a valid point there, other than that last bit." Harry reasoned.

"Are you kidding me?_ Especially_ that last bit!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione seemed to think about it for a moment, then winced. "Alright, maybe you're right about him being not completely humble, but I'm sure he's not a fraud."

Amia put her hands on Hermione's shoulders. Becoming unexpectedly sincere. "Yes, and that's okay, but just as you can think what you like about him, I can think what _I _like about him. I understand your opinion but I hope that you don't put it before us being friends. I'll do silly things sometimes, because I'm a pretty silly person, almost as silly as Ron's face – kidding! – and you'll do whatever things you do, but that's because you're you and I'm me and that's just the way we are. I mean, I've never had a friend before. Ever. And I just like you as a friend okay?"

Hermione looked at her, and even before her lips curved upwards Amia could see her eyes smiling. "Of course." Hermione said quietly. "I like you as a friend too."

They stood in silence for a second and until, "Wow. Who knew Amia was capable of being serious?" Ron murmured.

Amia turned around and glared at him, then gave him what you might call a friendly high five. In the face. "You just disturbed our moment _Ronald._" She growled. Then her eyes went wide.

Both Hermione and Harry burst into shocked giggles, and Amia stared at her hand in amazement. It was all tingly and strange feeling. She had never done anything like that before in her life. Quickly she covered her mouth and looked sheepishly at Ron's cheek.

"Owwww . . ." He groaned. "Amia. I'll forgive you this time because I like you. But please save the hitting for your enemies."

Her eyebrows went all the way up to the ceiling. "Yeah, okay, I'm really sorry Ron, that was . . . unexpected."

"It was pretty funny though." Hermione laughed.

Everyone turn to gaze at her in bewilderment. Hermione did not seem like the type of person to laugh at something like that. Then a wide smile spread across Amia's face and she joined in, Harry and Ron doing the same a few seconds later.

And Amia felt good. She felt okay. She felt like all that mattered was that moment. That moment where she sat laughing with her friends, and she didn't have to think about anything except that for once everything was perfectly okay.

Classes after that got easier. Amia adjusted. She was more comfortable with being her, and she was happy. She had her friends, and she liked going to classes, and basically just being there at Hogwarts.

She had somewhat made it her mission to cause Lockhart trouble and soon everyone in her Defense Against the Dark Arts class thought she was hilarious and wonderful because of it. That was except for Hermione and a few other girls. However she knew Hermione was Hermione and even though she disapproved of Amia making so much trouble for The Doll, she limited her scolding to a stern glance every now and then.

Amia was especially surprised when she went to potions class for the first time. Professor Snape scowled the whole way through and apparently despised Harry, all though she couldn't imagine why. He also was not very nice to Amia, but she forgave him (not that he wanted her forgiveness), because she knew what he'd been like when she was in the hospital, and he just didn't seem like a bad person. Draco Malfoy was a meanie and he teased Amia every chance he got. Sometimes the little girl would visit Hagrid, and even though he wasn't supposed to he'd taken her into the Forbidden Forest once. Interestingly enough she thought that it was fantastic there and he'd had to drag her out, only realizing afterwards what a terrible mistake he'd made. You could see just by looking at her face that she wasn't going to be staying out of the forest for long, no matter how many warnings she got. So all in all, life was good. At least for a little while.

**I would love for anyone and everyone to read and review, just tell me what you think, give suggests, basically whatever. Again I apologize for this terrible chapter.**

**Love, **

**Lost1nTheLight**


	10. Chapter 10: A Most Unfortunate Ron

**Author's Note: Hello, I hope this chapter is a bit better than the last one, because that one was kind of terrible. I got some really nice reviews so I decided to upload this (second in one day! Yes!) and so please just tell me what you think. Just like always, I will love you forever if you review and follow and favourite and do all that stuff, so yeah, I hope you like it:  
**

Chapter 10: A Most Unfortunate Ron

"Amia you have to get up." Hermione's exasperated voice penetrated the thick barrier of multiple blankets Amia had buried herself under.

"No Hermione, I can't. I have been chosen." The little girl's voice came out muffled and she could practically feel Hermione rolling her eyes.

"What are you talking about?" She thought she heard Hermione's foot tapping impatiently against the wood floor.

"The blankets. They have chosen me. If I leave now then I would be betraying their trust." She mumbled, smothered by the quiet darkness surrounding her.

A loud sigh could be heard through Amia's wall separating her from the world.

Then out of nowhere two pairs of hands wrapped themselves around her ankles and pulled. Down she went, falling onto the floor in a chaotic mess of blankets and pillows and little girl.

"Oof." She groaned. "What was that for?" Her eyes shifted upwards to where an unimpressed Hermione and Parvati stood.

"I'm sure you'll find a way to regain the blankets' trust. Now get dressed or we'll be late." Hermione ordered and then strode off. Parvati giggled and waved good bye, leaving Amia lying on the floor with a sore bottom.

It was only ten minutes later when Amia was making her way down to the common room did she realize it was Saturday. They didn't have classes. What were they going to be late for?

Hermione answered her unspoken question as she, Ron, and Amia were making their way outside. "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you Mia, we're going to watch Harry's Quidditch practice."

"Oh for real?" Amia's eyes lit up. "I've never seen a Quidditch practice before. I bet Harry's really good, huh?"

"You've never seen Harry play before!" Ron exclaimed, like he'd just remembered. "Oh he's fantastic. The practices are cool, but wait till you see the games!"

After that Amia practically ran all the way there, too excited to wait for those slow pokes. She couldn't wait to see Harry play. In fact she forgot all about the fact that she'd been woken up early enough to make her want to shoot someone.

It took ten years for Hermione and Ron to catch up with her, but eventually they did. Up they went to sit in the stands. Although the days were still warm, nights were cool and it was early enough for the three to feel the beginning chill of the upcoming autumn so they huddled together, Amia in the middle.

They waited. And waited. And waited. But apparently there was some sort of delay going on because it had been at least an hour and still Amia hadn't seen anyone playing Quidditch. To be precise she couldn't see anyone at all because Ron was starting to fall back asleep and his head had fallen onto her shoulder, hair obscuring her view of everything around her. She considered shoving him off but then her sympathy stepped in (Hermione really could be heartless sometimes) so she let him sleep, though it was a very painful experience for her shoulder.

In the end Amia began to drift off as well, so it was like a train of sleeping children. Ron's head on her shoulder, and her head on Hermione's.

Then for a second time that day Hermione woke her up. Thankfully she was much gentler this time. Amia's eyes fluttered open, and she sat up, making Ron's head fall off her shoulder and he jerked awake. A chain reaction.

"Sorry Ron." She murmured sleepily.

"No problem," he mumbled back.

Amia rubbed her eyes glanced at Hermione tiredly. "What is it?"

It turned out that although Hermione was very smart, at times she was not so perceptive because she didn't seem to notice at all that both of her friends had just woken up. Again.

"Look, they're coming out." The bushy haired girl pointed to where a group of people in Gryffindor colours had walked out onto the pitch, visibly slowed down with fatigue.

"Finally." Ron grumbled. "Aren't you finished yet?" He called to Harry.

"Haven't even started yet," He responded.

"Really? Wow, they're taking a pretty long time. Are they always like this?" Amia looked at Ron questioningly. He shook his head.

"They're probably going over a new strategy or something so they can crush Slytherin into the dirt when they play against them." He told her. She nodded in approval.

Suddenly a high, squeaky voice bombarded the three friends' ears from above. "Look this way Harry! This way!" It cried irritatingly.

Amia looked up to see a boy, about her age sitting in the stands holding a camera. "Is he one of your friends?" She asked Ron and Hermione, as they both shook their heads.

"Never mind who he is, the question is what are _they _doing here?" Hermione pointed down to the pitch, where a team of green shirted students were making their way over to where the Gryffindors were running drills.

"_Slytherins._" Ron spat in disgust.

"_Slytherins._" Amia copied.

They could hear a shouting match going on between Wood and one of the Slytherins as the three ran down to see what was going on. When they reached the grass and crossed over to where Harry and the others were standing.

"Oh look," The one who seemed to be the captain of the Slytherin team sneered when Amia ran to Harry and planted her feet on the ground beside him. "A pitch invasion."

"Oh look," Amia shot back. "An idiot."

The boy, who was about three heads taller than her, started forward and Amia opened her mouth to give him an earful but Harry clapped his hand over her mouth and pushed her behind him before she had the chance.

"What's happening?" Ron asked. "Why aren't you playing? And what's _he _here?"

That's when Amia noticed Draco Malfoy. There he was, standing among the other Slytherin players, holding a sleek new broom with his hair slicked back as always. She suddenly had the urge to throw a bucket of water on his head, and probably would have if she was actually in possession of one of those at the moment.

"I'm the new Slytherin seeker, Weasley," Draco Malfoy informed them, all smug and confident like.

Amia snorted. "What a mistake." She was about to continue but swallowed the phrase that had come into her mind. If Draco Malfoy wanted to be mean he could but Amia wasn't going to join him.

That didn't mean she couldn't be amused as she watched him try and restrain himself from strangling her. Eventually he was calm enough to say, "Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team."

Amia really couldn't see what was so great about them. They pretty much looked like Harry's but were a little glossier. "Oh how nice!" She smiled at him. "You like Harry's broom so much you decided to copy him and got some that were just a little more polished looking. It's good to show you're admiration of him in such a sweet way."

Before he could launch himself at her, Harry pushed her to stand behind Wood. She frowned at the back of Wood's shirt and crossed her arms.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in." Hermione to the rescue with her usual witty comments. "_They _got in on pure talent." Well there you had it, the queen of comebacks.

Draco Malfoy evidently had never heard such an awesome comeback and wanted to kneel before Hermione's mighty presence and beg for an autograph because he stared at her. Either that or he wanted to pummel her.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood." He spat. Apparently it was the second option.

Amia still had no idea what that meant but by now she knew it was something bad because there was an explosion of fury from the Gryffindor's which abruptly ended when Ron tried his best to curse Malfoy. Amia had forgotten that his wand was still messed up from their flying car adventure, and it turned out he had as well because the curse came out the wrong end and hit Ron straight in the gut. Unfortunately.

Amia winced and rushed to where he was laying on the grass. "Ron! Ron! Are you alright?" Hermione shouted, panicked. He was unable to answer though because his mouth was too busy releasing a very unpleasant collection of slimy slugs into his lap.

Amia hopped to feet and got away from him so fast she stumbled into Wood and then fell on her face. Before she could even think about getting back up she was lifted as easily as you might pick up a feather and set back on her feet. She spat out a mouthful of who knows what and brushed blades of grass off her face, rubbing her nose.

"Are you alright?" Wood asked worriedly.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine!" She chirped and ran back to her friends, stopping a fair distance away from Ron. She loved him and all, but not enough to get covered in slugs.

"Hagrid's." Harry said. It was good to know they had at least two intelligent people in their group. Ron and Amia on the other hand, were basically useless. Joke. Ron wasn't useless. Amia hated to admit it to herself but she really was.

Harry and Hermione had managed to kind of carry him slash drag him when Colin interrupted them. "What happened Harry? What happened? Is he ill? But you can cure him, can't you?" Upon seeing Ron heave up an impressively large amount of slugs, the first year was enraptured. "Ooh, can you hold him still Harry?"

"Get out of the way Colin!" was Harry's response.

"Why don't you go gather up some of the slugs and shove them down the Slytherins' shirts?" Amia suggested as she ran to help.

* * *

"It was bad." Ron had been throwing slugs up into a basin for the last five minutes and had finally came up to contribute to telling Hagrid the story of what had happened. "Malfoy called Hermione a Mudblood."

"He didn'!" Hagrid yelled, outraged.

"He did," Hermione confirmed. "I don't know what it means but I could tell it was really rude of course . . ."

Amia nodded. "What does it mean? He called me that on the train too."

"He called you that too?" Harry looked at her with wide eyes, the others matching his expression.

"Oh yeah."

"It's about the most insulting thing he could think of. A really foul name for muggle-borns. There are some wizards like the Malfoy family who think they're better than anyone else because they're pure bloods." Ron did his best to explain while emptying a mouthful of slugs into the basin. "The rest of us know it doesn't make any difference though. Look at Neville Longbottom – he's a pure blood and he can hardly stand a cauldron up straight. And it's really ridiculous for him to call you that Amia, because he doesn't even know who you're parents are."

"An' they haven' invented a spell our Hermione can't do," Hagrid added, making her blush bright red.

"And really I don't think it's fair for Malfoy to go around insulting people just because they have better comebacks than him." Amia pointed out. That made everyone smile. Even Ron, that is until his head disappeared into the basin once more.

* * *

After a bit they left, Ron having seemingly run out of slugs to throw up. However when they got back to the castle they were met with Professor McGonagall who proceeded to give both Harry and Ron (poor guy wasn't having a very good day) detentions. So for the rest of the day while Hermione did schoolwork and the boys dreaded their detentions, Amia went in search of Ginny. It took her more than half an hour to find her in the first year dormitory. She'd never been in there before, although technically she should have been sleeping in there every night.

Ginny was curled up on her bed reading a book. The red head jumped when Amia flopped down next to her. "Hey Ginny." She said.

"Hey to you too."

"Did you know that Ron tried to curse Malfoy and ended up making himself throw up slugs for about an hour?" Amia looked up at her.

Ginny stared at the little girl, then snorted and shook her head. "Of course he did."

"So do you have lots of friends in your classes?" Amia asked.

That seemed to catch Ginny's attention. She shifted uncomfortably and studied the blankets. "Oh, um, no not really. There are some girls who are kind of friendly I guess." She stuttered.

Amia gave her an odd look and sat up. "Are you okay Ginny?"

"Oh, yeah, I-I'm okay, why do you ask?" Was all the reply she got.

"Well you're acting kind of . . . strangely." Amia frowned.

"No I'm not." Ginny snapped. "Just because I don't want to tell you about my friends doesn't mean there's anything wrong. I mean, maybe I want something to be private once. Did you ever think of that? Maybe I want to have my own friends for once."

Amia looked at her with wide eyes, then slowly got off the bed. "Okay. I'm sorry. I was just asking." She muttered, hurt.

Ginny's eyes flickered and she reached out to touch Amia's arm. "No, Amia, I'm sorry, that's not what I meant."

But Amia kept looking at her oddly and moved her arm away from Ginny's hand. "Okay. I'm – I'll just go." And she left, confused. Ginny was her sister. Basically her best friend. Why would she say that to her? Was she angry with her?

Amia decided to consult Hermione, but the other girl had no answer. "I don't know, maybe something happened and she's just sensitive. Or maybe she just wants some space. She has to live in a house with a huge family after all, maybe she wants to be away from them for a bit."

"But why does she want to be away from _me?_" Amia sniffed. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"I don't know, Mia. I'm sure it'll be okay. In fact, by tomorrow I'm certain she'll be just the same as before, don't worry, you didn't do anything wrong."

* * *

But the next day Ginny wasn't back to normal. Or the next. Or the next. And every time Amia went to talk to her she felt lonelier and lonelier, until she stopped going to the first year dormitory all together, because she couldn't bear to look at Ginny's cold expression anymore. It was like Amia didn't even know her at all. She wasn't Ginny. She was someone else entirely.

**So review and everything. There's one part here that's kind of a lot like the book, which I'm sorry about but it was kind of hard to write the whole thing over again and make it super original, but I did my best so I hope you like it. Suggestions, comments and whatever are always welcome so please feel free to tell me what you think, it would really mean a lot. **

**Love, **

**Lost1nTheLight**


	11. Chapter 11: Better When You Wake

**Author's Note: Alright, here's the next chapter! First of all, I'm SO sorry to all the beautiful people who are reading this story that I took so long to update. It's just I've been _really _busy and also this chapter took forever to write. I wanted to make sure that it was saying what I wanted it to say and I wrote it three times before this and I'm still not sure it's exactly what I want but oh well. So I really hope you guys like it, I did my best. Super sorry again for the wait and I'll do my best to write more quickly IF I CAN. Also, thank you guys so much for your lovely reviews, they actually made me want to cry they were so nice. Plus, I wanted to say specifically to Awesomazing thank you so much. You're reviews for both my stories are wonderful and I LOVE reading them. You my friend, are truly Awesomazing.  
**

**Please review and do all that good stuff to tell me what to think or give suggestions. **

**Love,**

**Lost1nTheLight**

Chapter 11: Everything Will Be Better When You Wake

"Riddle!" Snape snapped. "Is this class too easy for you? Perhaps you're bored and would like to give us the answer."

Amia's head jerked up from where it had been resting on her and Hermione's table. "Pardon me?"

"The question." Snape said through gritted teeth, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Umm . . ." Of course, Amia had no idea what he was talking about so she made an answer up on the spot. "The secret to creating an effective, desirable shampoo product is to use the magical cleaning mineral of Silkirea extracted from deep beneath the Black Lake."

The class snickered and Amia sunk back down in her seat, letting her face be hidden behind her cauldron. Professor Snape looked at her like she was insane, opening and closing his mouth several times before he could get any words out. "You, quite truthfully, may be the worst student I have ever taught in all my years Miss. Amia." He finally stated.

Amia sighed and mumbled, "I know, I know." Into her arm.

"Either that or you've gone completely insane. I think to be safe you should go up to the hospital wing." The teacher still looked shaken. Amia guessed he was having some kind of post-traumatic stress at her lack of potion's class skills. Resignedly she gathered up her bag and books and made her way to the door. Hermione cast her a worried glance as she went, though she couldn't be blamed. Right before she stepped out of the door, looking very small, and weighed down in a way that was definitely not normal, Professor Snape called to her, "And please don't come back to class today. Your presence is giving me a headache."

Draco Malfoy, part of the Slytherin group they had potions with, snorted but Amia didn't react whatsoever, just went on her way.

The truth was that it had almost been a month since Ginny had first begun to act strange and Amia seeming less and less Amia-like, and more and more zombie-like every day. Hermione had been giving her concerned looks when she thought the little girl couldn't see, and – not unoticeably – had become so distressed that she would barely leave the child's side. Harry was doing his best to cheer her up as well – to no avail. Ron didn't know how to act at all so, trying not to make the problem worse, did his best to keep his distance. What he didn't understand was that was possibly the worst thing he could have done. The other Weasleys had noticed as well, and tried to talk to Ginny, but they didn't think she seemed too different at all until they brought Amia up. Even the teachers were worried. Professor McGonagall had kept her after class a few times to see if everything was alright, but Amia never said a word. Professor Flitwick had purposefully done Cheerful Charms or Happy Charms or Smiley Charms or whatever they were called charms to see if it might lighten her mood, but she fell asleep in class and missed the entire lesson. It had been suggested a few not so subtle times that she visit Madam Pomfrey but Professor Snape was the first one who actually managed to get her to go.

There was nothing that any medicine could do though, it wasn't something that you could fix with a Cheerful Charm. Amia was hurt. Some people might say that that was the only thing wrong with her, but really it was everything wrong with her. She had never been hurt this way before. Losing her Papa was something else entirely. Losing Ginny was just not the same. Ginny was her sister. Sisters weren't like fathers. Sisters were supposed to understand. Sisters were supposed to stay up all night whispering and giggling. Sisters were supposed to get into trouble together and be children together and just . . . just be _sisters _together.

It was a different kind of hurt. With her Papa it was like a knife. A thousand little needles. Like being stung and burned and cut. But with Ginny it was a dull, aching pain that started in her heart and spread to her mind and stayed there, for days, and days, and days. She couldn't decide which was worse. The knife hurt so much more, but it was stopped. She was saved and she lived without it, even as the doubt steadily grew. No, the knife was like a quick slash, and when she found out the truth about her Papa, depending on what it was, it might be another slash. But the ache was constant. When she was eating breakfast, and she would catch a glimpse of Ginny. When she walked down the halls with Hermione and Harry and Ron. When she sat in class, not listening, her head pounding. When she went to the dormitory and waited there alone for night to come instead of spending the minutes with her sister. When she climbed into bed at night, and all the darkness did was remind her of what she had lost.

Obviously if she tried to explain this to anyone, they would say she was blowing it way out of proportion. That she was overreacting. That she was being sensitive and stupid and it was her own fault for not just taking it and moving on. So she kept her mouth shut. Like what was said earlier, she had never been hurt this way before. Maybe other people didn't get affected as strongly about such things, or maybe something like this had never happened to them before so they didn't understand, but it hurt too much for her to just continue on. It wasn't just a falling out. Or some kind of fight with a friend that Amia had learned happened so often with these children. It was like losing Ginny completely. It was like she wasn't even her anymore. Like she had been ripped straight out of Amia's hands and the little girl didn't know how to get her back. It was like losing someone, and you felt you couldn't go on, but then a savior came, and fixed you, and then you lost the savior as well.

None of this she could explain, so when she arrived at the hospital wing she just sat on one of the beds, staring out the window as Madam Pomfrey tried to figure out what was wrong with her.

The sun shone outside, bathing everything in a golden glow. It was almost odd. How could something so beautiful still exist when she felt so ugly inside? The whole thing was gorgeous, and for some strange reason it made her want to cry. She sat there, entranced, for who knows how long. She simply couldn't take her eyes away.

"Yes I know. There's nothing you can do for her Madam Pomfrey. I'll take care of her. Yes." Harry's voice somehow made its way through her mesmerized state. Then she felt a hand take hold of hers. It was warm and gentle and safe. "Come on Amia," Harry whispered in her ear. "Let's go."

He lightly pulled her off the bed and led her out of the infirmary. She didn't stop staring out the window until they had left the hospital wing. When they did Harry paused, very carefully brought her to him, and hugged her tightly. He didn't say a word, just let her rest her head on his shoulder and close her eyes, exhausted. And they stood like that for a while - just two children - but with a silent language deeper than many adults could ever hope to create.

* * *

The first time Amia seemed to be okay for a little while, to be Amia for a little while, was on Halloween. Hermione, Harry, Ron and her had been invited by Nearly Headless Nick to come to his Deathday Party. They barely managed to drag her along, but somehow were able to get her all the way to the dungeon, where it was being held. However the second they stepped inside, one of the ghost guests swept right through her and she froze. It felt terrible, like someone had buried her in a coffin of ice and let her stay there forever. No one liked the feeling of a ghost passing through them, but it had a strange effect on Amia. She immediately stiffened, and when the ghost had left she doubled over and clutched her sides. It was just something about feeling so cold, it completely threw her off. It wasn't even just the ghost, but the entire atmosphere of the party. All of those dead people, everything gloomy and dark. Perhaps it reflected her thoughts a little too accurately, or gave her a dangerous push towards the ledge she was about to fall off of at any moment, but she stood and ran right out of there.

No matter what the others said she refused to return to the dungeon, so eventually they gave up. She didn't, however, go back to the dormitory. No. she sat down with her back against the wall and waited. Although the party had made her want to throw up. There was something about its grim kind of darkness that compelled her to stay – not too close that it could hit her near home, but close enough that she could let the absolute misery wash over her without feeling anything else. Sometimes it was easier just to be wholly miserable without having all those other things pull her thoughts every which way. It's like when you cry. Sometimes it was so much better to just let yourself sob and sob for a little while, instead of trying to hold your tears back all the time, worrying about a million different things that you wished could just go away.

That's how she felt, except there were no tears. There was no red rimmed eyes, or shaking shoulders, or running noses. Just a blank deadness.

For a while it was good and it was fine. And when the others came out of the dungeons, shivering, she took a deep breath and stood, facing them. "Are we going now?"

The three were surprised. She was different. A tiny bit back to how she had been.

"Yeah, let's go." Harry nodded and they did.

"Did you guys have fun dancing around with the dead people?" Amia lifted her eyebrows. Everything she said seemed kind of forced, and she obviously didn't have her heart in it, but the fact that she was trying was good enough for her friends.

"Oh yeah," Ron said sarcastically. The first words he'd said to her in over three weeks. "Loads."

Then suddenly Harry stopped walking abruptly, hands against the stone wall.

The other three stopped as well and looked at him oddly. "Harry? Are you alright?" Hermione asked nervously.

"It's that voice it's –" But he didn't finished his sentence. Obviously he was hearing something that they couldn't, because his eyes went wide and he began to run. "This way!"

Many times they tried to speak to him but he would cut them off, so they gave up and just followed, rushing through the corridors with an increasing urgency.

The only thing that managed to stop him was when they turned down a deserted corridor – inexplicably flooded in water – and saw something none of them wished to ever see. Between the light cast by torches lining the walls, there were words.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE.

And hanging below was Mrs. Norris. Unmoving.

Amia didn't know what happened after that because her vision went black and that was all she knew.

* * *

She had been in the hospital enough times to know where she laid before she even opened her eyes. The scent of lavender assaulted her nose. No, not assaulted. It was soft and nice and brushed by her senses almost like it was dancing. The first thing she noticed when she awoke was the calm. No loud emotions, battling against each other in her heart and mind, barely being restrained. It was . . . peaceful. A small smile passed over her lips as the ceiling came into focus above her.

Slowly, she sat up and looked around. Harry, Ron and Hermione were playing cards on the floor. Hermione had a bewildered look on her face, nose all scrunched up, eyes squinting. Ron was smiling triumphantly, almost smirking. Harry, didn't seem to be paying attention to the game at all, but was grinning as he watched his two friends.

"Hermione, I'm sorry, but you're terrible at that game." Amia's voice penetrated the tense silence. Hermione jumped to her feet and looked at her friend a moment, then threw her arms around her. Amia couldn't see anything past her bushy mane, but when Hermione drew back she was crying.

"Don't cry Hermione." Amia told her quietly, smiling and hugging her again. It took a moment for Hermione to compose herself, sitting back on the bed and wiping away her tears.

Harry flashed the little girl a grin and flop down on the bed to sit beside her. Funnily enough, Ron was the most cautious. He shifted from foot to foot nervously.

"Don't worry Ron, I'm not going to infect you with childish fainting fits. No need to be so scared." She joked softly.

He broke into a smile, shook his head, and sat beside Hermione.

"Are you okay Amia?" Hermione asked, still trying to rub away the tears.

"More okay than I've been in a while." She replied. Then out of nowhere yelled, "Why is that Madam Pomfrey? What did you give me?!" The three children jumped at the outburst but Amia didn't pay them any attention.

The nurse gave her a rare smile and Amia was ready to scream at her, first giving her a drug to make her feel so calm and happy then thinking it was okay. Why else would she be so relaxed? "I didn't give you anything sweetheart."

"You're lying." Amia immediately spat.

"No I'm not." She shook her head. "You're just going to get yourself angry if you keep assuming the worst. I didn't give you anything. You're happy and that's all."

That made Amia pause a moment, eyes narrowed. "But that doesn't make sense. Why would I be perfectly fine now when for ages I've . . ." She didn't finish her sentence but frowned at her friends. Something didn't feel quite right but when she looked at Hermione's wet cheeks, and Harry's lovely smile, and Ron's hopeful eyes, her expression softened and she sat back against the bed board. "Okay. Fine. So what happened while I was courageously lying here on this bed, asleep?"

Ron cracked a smile and the three began the story. It turned out she had been unconscious for _days. _That gave her an uncomfortable feeling as well. If she'd just fainted then why on earth would she have been out for so long? Apparently they'd learned all about something called the Chamber of Secrets. Just the name sent a prickling sensation down Amia's back. She would have thought she'd be excited – an adventure waiting to take place, but instead it made her cold and . . . afraid. Everything about what was going on seemed to be not quite right. And she didn't like that feeling at all.

After a good half an hour of updates Madam Pomfrey shooed her friends out. Amia tiptoed after the nurse shyly to see if she might be able to go as well, but before she could pull back the curtain obscuring where Madam Pomfrey worked from view, she saw something. It was a bottle sitting on a table. Of course there were lots of bottles, but this one caught her attention, perhaps that's because it was open, and obviously recently used. The bottle was completely black but when she peered inside, it seemed to have tiny, icy blue lights flying around in the clear liquid, zipping off the walls of the container. Curious, she scanned the shelf and spotted the empty gap of air where it should have been sitting. Quietly, she reached up and took down the description.

It was odd because the parchment was _very _old. Yellowed and crackling at the slightest movement. All the other ones had relatively new descriptions because they were used regularly. The only explanation Amia could think of was that this one had been used in years, possibly decades. That thought was enough to make her raise her eyebrows. So what was the nurse using it for then? Not for the paralyzed cat, she knew that for sure. And the only other one in the hospital was her.

But then she read the description and it all snapped into place. It suddenly made complete sense. Anger simmered inside her and she flung back the curtain, making Madam Pomfrey jump.

"YOU LIED!" Amia shrieked, eyes wild with an unprecedented fury. "YOU LIED TO ME! YOU TOLD ME YOU DIDN'T GIVE ME ANYTHING! THAT'S WHAT YOU SAID! WHAT'S THIS THEN? TRYING TO MESS UP ALL MY FEELINGS AND THOUGHTS? TRYING TO MAKE ME OKAY ONLY SO THAT LATER IT CAN WEAR OFF AND EVERYTHING CAN COME CRASHING BACK TEN TIMES AS HARD? YOU CAN'T FIX SOMETHING YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" She was close to tears now and Madam Pomfrey stared at her in shock. She couldn't comprehend why the child was so upset. It didn't make sense. Behind the rage, Amia almost looked heartbroken, and Madam Pomfrey just didn't get it. "Why would you do that to me? Why?"

A couple of tears slipped out of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

"I apologize, Amia. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you but what else was there to do? Why are you so upset –"

"YOU JUST DON'T GET IT! YOU THINK SOMETHING'S WRONG, YOU SEE IT AND YOU JUST TRY TO MAKE A BUNCH OF POTIONS TO FIX EVERYTHING BUT YOU CAN'T! You just can't." Amia screamed, her face red partly from the shouting and partly from the crying.

Before the nurse could try to convince her to calm down, Amia bolted from the room. She ran to the common room, burst through the portrait hole, raced up to the dormitory and locked herself in the bathroom. She slid down to the floor and sobbed for the first time in weeks. She sobbed for what seemed like years, face hot, cheeks wet, hands gripping her hair. She couldn't even distinguish one thought from another, it was just a mess of chaos that she could hardly bear. She couldn't breathe and the only thing she knew was that she had no idea what was wrong with her, and it was tearing her entire world apart at the seams.

This didn't happen. People didn't go crazy, fall apart, because of something like that.

"Amia."

Her head snapped up to stare at Hermione. She'd locked the door. Her friend gave a little smile and held up her wand. Of course. She sat down beside her and wrapped an arm around her, resting her head on her shoulder. "Please don't be sad Amia." The girl took a breath and just like that all the fight, the rage, everything, seemed to leave her. She was just tired. So tired.

"How?" Amia turned her face to search Hermione's.

"You just have to trust that it will be okay." Hermione whispered. "This isn't something normal, something's going on and I don't what, but this isn't really Ginny. So you've just got to trust that we're going to figure it out, and it's all going to be okay. And even if it isn't, me and you and Harry and even _Ronald _will be together always so you don't have to be sad anymore, okay? You don't have to be sad."

Amia sniffed and then gave a shaky smile. "I don't want to keep crying."

"That's okay, alright? You don't have to. It's okay." Hermione said quietly and wiped a single tear off of the little girl's cheek. Then she gave her a kiss on the forehead and helped her up. They went back into the dormitory where Parvati was sitting on her bed. She gave Amia a smile and oddly enough it made her feel . . . just kind of nice. She hardly even knew Parvati and there was something about that that made it lovely. After being heartbroken for so long a smile like that was more beautiful than you could possibly imagine. "Go to sleep now," Hermione told her. "Everything will be better when you wake."

**Review and all that awesome stuff.**

**xoxoxoxoxo**

**Lost1nTheLight**


	12. Chapter 12: Amia is Insane

**Author's Note: This chapter isn't the best (sorry), because it's more just about stuff that happens, and it hasn't got as much of Amia's thoughts and feelings and that sort of thing, but oh well, I hope you like it anyway. I apologize for taking a while to write this but I'm kind of having trouble figuring out how to get where I want to go, so that's also part of why this chapter isn't as good as the others. (And the others aren't that good in the first place so this may be quite a problem.) Anyway, I really hope it's not too horrendous and I apologize again. Please review as well, because then it will make me feel good and everyone should feel good, don't you think? ;p  
**

**Love,**

**Lost1nTheLight**

Chapter 12: Amia is Insane

"Are you sure this will work?" Amia asked nervously, biting her lip.

Ron scoffed. "Amia. Of course it will work. You know better than anyone what an idiotic prat this guy is."

Amia straightened and nodded her head once. He was right.

"He's NOT an idiotic prat!" Hermione tried to shriek, but at the same time was doing her best to keep her voice quiet, so a very strange whispery noise came from her mouth in the end.

"Sure. Keep thinking that." Ron smiled knowingly at their bushy haired friend and gave her a pat on the shoulder, which Hermione stepped quickly away from.

Things were better. Amia was Amia again. At least when people were around her. Sort of. Hermione would still wake up in the middle of the night and see the child sitting up in her bed, knees pulled against her chest, staring blankly at the wall. However around her friends she was as Amia-y as she could get. The change affected Ron the most. He was closer to the little girl than ever. Perhaps even more so than before they'd even come to Hogwarts. That's what made everything a little more okay for her. Hermione. Ron. And Harry. It was them. Just them that made things not so terrible.

"Um, excuse me, professor? I was wondering – professor?" Hermione stammered, blushing furiously. However he was too busy flashing smiles at Lavender and Parvati to listen to her. That made Amia angry. Hermione could barely even speak to the man – he was her idol – and he didn't even give her a second glance.

"HEY! DOLL!" She bellowed in her loudest voice. Now, loudest voice means _loudest voice. _As in drop-to-the-ground-hands-clapped-over-your-ears loud.

Her three friends cringed and Professor Lockhart whipped around (robes billowing dramatically) to see what had attacked the classroom. Well, it turned out nothing had attacked the classroom except a glowering eleven year old girl (which to be fair, was quite fearsome). "Little girl, really, why do you –" He started to say but she cut him off by holding up a hand, looking so commanding that everyone in the near vicinity suspected that if the teacher didn't listen she would throw him out the window.

"Don't call me little girl. Now Hermione has something to say so actually listen for once in your life." She snapped. Hermione gave her a look but said nothing.

"Um, well, professor, you see I was hoping to get this, um, book out of the library. For some background reading, you know. Except, well, it's in the Restricted Section so I sort of, well, I sort of need a teacher to sign for it, and I thought that you would be perfect because, you see, I think it would help me to understand what you say in Gadding with Ghouls about slow acting venoms –"

"Ah! Gadding with Ghouls!" The Doll interrupted her. Amia stepped forward, ready to turn his face black and blue, but Harry put a steadying hand on her shoulder. Lockhart took the note required for the Restricted Section and gave Hermione one of his winning smiles (Amia looked away, disgusted). "Possibly my favourite book. You enjoyed it?"

"Oh _I _enjoyed it." Amia stepped in. Lockhart didn't seem to notice her mocking tone and his eyes lit up. "Yes." The girl nodded seriously. "Especially the part where you charm the truth about the new lipstick product you were developing out of the old warlock. _That _part was my favourite."

The Doll looked confused. "Um, little girl, I think you might be getting something mixed up here because I _certainly _never had anything about creating a new lipstick product in Gadding with Ghouls."

"Oh _of course,_" Amia nodded as if the secrets of the universe had just been revealed to her and suddenly life made sense. "That wasn't Gadding with Ghouls. That one was Chatting with the Mirror, wasn't it?"

"Well, I don't actually have a book called –"

Hermione quickly sidestepped in front of Amia. "Sorry professor, Amia's not feeling well today, and she's been mixing things up a lot."

"Ah." He sighed sympathetically, as if he understood all of the trials she was going through. Amia glared at Hermione's back. Then The Doll proceeded to sign the note, and Amia pulled the rest of them as fast as humanly possible.

"Amia." Hermione scolded, placing her hands on her hips as they walked away from the classroom. "How many times do I have to tell you? You can't just going around being rude to your own professors with insults that have absolutely no evidence to prove that they aren't completely false." She chided as if Amia was a very small child who needed to learn her manners.

Amia shrugged. "I don't see why not if they're reflecting the truth. I mean honestly Hermione, even you should be able to see by now that he's a fraud. What kind of a hero boasts about how charming his smile is instead of actually trying to teach his students how to protect themselves so they know how to survive?"

Hermione had no response to that so Amia nodded and looked forward, but a satisfied smile secretly spread across her face.

The smile disappeared when they entered the library. As they went to show Madam Pince the note, a squeaky voice called to Amia. Before she turned around, her face involuntarily contorted in disgust. What an unfortunate person to have such an ugly voice.

"Hey! Riddle!" The voice repeated and Amia spun to face whoever it was so the person would hopefully stop talking. It was a very disturbing sound.

Not only did she have an unfortunate voice, but the person who had called her also had a very unfortunate face. She looked rather like a pug. And that's when Amia realized she knew who it was. An unfortunate voice, an unfortunate face, AND an unfortunate name. Pansy Parkinson. Ugh.

"Yes?" The little girl raised an eyebrow. Pansy Parkinson was a Slytherin second year who liked to follow Draco Malfoy around like a dog. A pug, to be exact. She totally freaked Amia out. Seriously, how did a face like that even happen?

"Well I was just thinking about how angry you must be all the time."

"Excuse me?" Amia raised an eyebrow and gave her a steely glare.

"It must be so hard." Parkinson continued. "To have no one want you. I mean, obviously it makes you angry, or is that just your natural face? You know, whoever you lived with before didn't want you. The people you live with now don't want you. Ginny Weasley hates you. Ron Weasley won't even talk to you. I can't blame them. I've seen how you act. You're pretty messed up, aren't you? But that's not what I care about." She rushed to keep going before Amia could open her mouth. "I wanted to know who you did use to live with before. Of course there are all kinds of stories, but the question is which ones are true." Parkinson smirked, voice dripping with venom. Amia didn't get it. She'd never even talked to the girl before, so why was she being so cruel for no reason?

"Yeah." Amia cut her off. "Well I think the most important question here is how on earth did you end up bearing such a striking resemblance to that of a pug?"

Parkinson's face froze and she opened and closed her mouth multiple times. While she was busy looking like a pug trying to breathe under water Amia bolted. She didn't wait for the others to get the book, she just raced from the library like the place was on fire. Obviously Parkinson was a pug, and pugs shouldn't be listened to or trusted, but that didn't mean what she'd said didn't bother Amia. A couple of words were all it was going to take for her to turn zombie-Amia again, and she definitely didn't want Parkinson to be the one to do it.

Amia was so angry she didn't notice the other two people in the hallway, and she ran straight into them. From her vantage point on the floor, she saw two heads of red hair, but she was too busy rubbing her forehead to look any further than that.

"Amia!" The twins swooped down and picked her up. But instead of placing her back on her feet, Fred grabbed her around the torso, and George took her ankles, and they carried her off without another word.

After a few minutes of feeling like her feet were going to fall off, Amia tilted her head back to see Fred's face. "Umm, guys? Where are we going?"

"Kitchens." They replied without hesitation. Right. Of course. How could she not have known that? Made total sense.

"You look like some terrible evil has descended upon you and there's only one way to make it better." George announced.

"Hot chocolate." Fred told her.

She nodded her head as if this was perfectly normal, and let them take her to the kitchens. She had never been down there before, so it wasn't surprising when she was stunned to see a hoard of little bald half people type things. The twins explained to her that these were House Elves, as they asked one to make some hot chocolate. Amia thought they were the most charming little things and said so, thus making every single one of them crowd around her and bow and smile and ask if there was anything else they could possibly do for her.

However the twins ended up putting a stop to it before Amia's ego could blow up too much by racing out of there, George carrying the mug of cocoa, and Fred carrying Amia like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder.

At the common room the three sat by the fire and Amia sipped her hot chocolate. It was odd because the twins were completely silent. They didn't ask her what was the matter. They didn't ask her if she was okay. They didn't try and comfort her. They just stayed quiet and the three children stared into the flames. Heat licked at their faces, just close enough to make Amia feel warm and safe and . . . illuminated, but not to burn them. It made her feel drowsy and comfortable and nice. Just nice. That was all, but it was enough.

* * *

"Hi Hagrid!" Amia practically shouted. The tall man looked down and gave a friendly smile, which Amia could only see in his eyes since his mouth was hidden somewhere in that bushy beard of his.

"'Ello there Amia, Hermione, Ron." He stepped back so they could squeeze past and sit in seats on the other side of him.

"How have you been, Hagrid?" Hermione asked as they all settled in, ready for the Quidditch match. Gryffindor against Slytherin. Amia had never seen an actual match before and she was so excited that she had run down to the pitch, dragging Ron and Hermione along, without even putting on a coat. That was not the most intelligent idea she realized, as she wrapped her arms around herself, shivering.

"Alrigh', alrigh', though I'd be better if you kids came down ta see me once in a while. Since Ron's slug ins'dent I haven' seen any of yeh." Hagrid grunted, giving them a look.

Amia's eyes widened and she straightened. "Oh no! You're right! I'm so sorry Hagrid! How could we have let this happen! I'm such a terrible person! Will you ever be able to forgive me?" She stared at him, horrified. Hagrid chuckled.

"Don' worry Amia, I forgive ya. No need ta get too worried there." He assured her. Amia let out a sigh of relief and slouched back down.

It really was quite cold. She eyed Hagrid's coat for a fraction of a second, then scooted right up to and snuggled into the delightfully warm furs. Hagrid looked down at her in surprise then shook his head and laughed.

After a few minutes of conversation the Quidditch players walked onto the pitch. Amia jumped up, bouncing with anticipation. In fact, she was completely uncontrollable the entire Quidditch match. This was basically what it looked like: Amia screaming her head off. Amia cheering for Harry. Amia cheering for the twins. Amia cheering for Wood. Amia cheering for the Gryffindor team. Amia making faces every time Malfoy flew past them. Amia sticking her tongue out at the Slytherin team. Amia having to be restrained as she roared every time the Gryffindor team scored. Amia having to be restrained as she roared every time the Slytherin team scored (she was much angrier when Slytherin team scored, but her reaction was just as frightening when the Gryffindor team scored). Amia jumping up and down. Amia shaking Ron's shoulders, eyes wild with excitement. Amia shaking Hermione's shoulders, eyes wild with excitement. Amia attempting to shake Hagrid's shoulders but being unsuccessful seeing as she was several feet too short to reach. Amia finding a solution and instead of shaking Hagrid's shoulders, climbing onto of him and sitting on them. Amia running around their section of the stands. Amia grinning slightly maniacally at everyone who looked at her. Amia dancing. Amia running up to the teacher's section of the stands, sitting beside Snape, grabbing his hands, waving them around and shouting Gryffindor, and running back down. Amia running up to the teacher's stands and giving Dumbledore one end of a Gryffindor flag that was about ten feet long, and McGonagall the other end. Amia stealing the Doll's hat, having him chase after her, running away and placing it on Hermione's head and running away again. Amia hugging the nearest person to her whenever Gryffindor got a point (these people included: Dean Thomas, Hagrid, Percy, Professor Snape, and Lucius Malfoy who was here for some strange reason Amia was unaware of). Amia being restrained (again) when a bludger went after Harry (very rudely). Amia sitting on the bench silently, hands clasped together, too excited to even move.

And so that's how it went. But the worst was when Harry caught the snitch and Amia screamed so loud everyone within a 100 foot distance from her had to go to the hospital wing afterwards to make sure their ears were still working. Then she raced down to the Quidditch so fast it was almost inhuman. Hermione used her mad skills to stop the bludger and saved the day as Amia wrapped her arms around Harry so tightly he could hardly breathe. She knew perfectly well his arm was broken but that didn't mean she was going to let him go. But then the Doll came.

"Ah-ha!" He announced himself with his usual irritating voice and unbearable presence. "I know just the spell to fix this!" Amia watched him take out his wand from the corner of her eye.

"No! Not you." Harry protested (weakly because Amia was still hugging him.).

The Doll scoffed. "The boy doesn't know what he's saying. This won't hurt a bit." He raised his wand, but before he could perform the spell Amia kicked him right in the chest, sending him tumbling back. There was really nothing else she could do because she refused to detach herself from Harry. When the Doll regained his composure he glared at her. "Someone please restrain this child." And before she could get another good hit in, he aimed his wand at Harry's arm and it was done. Of course, being a Doll, he had done something terribly wrong and Harry's arm turned out very . . . deformed.

Amia was furious, and as Hagrid hoisted Harry into his arms, Amia still hugging him, she sent him a death glare that promised frightening things to come for the professor.

* * *

In the hospital wing Amia still wouldn't let Harry go. Madam Pomfrey tried all she could. Bribing. Pleading. Threatening. But it was like the child was surgically attached to him. So in the end they had to wait to _hours _until they could carry her out when she fell asleep. You may be thinking: poor Harry, but really it was only uncomfortable at first. Later, when he realized that they were going to be like that for a while, he relaxed in the bed and actually used Amia as a very nice arm rest. The only thing that wasn't so nice was that she was taking quite a bit of his pillow, and when he asked her to move over a bit, she used him as a pillow, but all in all it wasn't too bad.

When Amia woke up and realized that she'd been pulled away from Harry she was a little upset. She had been planning on not letting him go until he let her try out his broom, but since that didn't work she spent the rest of the evening chatting and laughing with Fred and George. By night she had decided firmly that she wanted desperately to play Quidditch as well.

* * *

Things were much more serious the next morning. Hermione and Ron had gone to the girls' lavatory to work on the Polyjuice Potion, but Amia had wanted to go see if Harry was healed in the hospital wing yet. After all the excitement and insanity yesterday, she was feeling quite calm and rather . . . well there was really no other word to use for it than serene.

Harry was almost completely cured except for a slight stiffness in his arm. "Hi Amia." He greeted her as she sat on the bed beside him.

"Hello Harry. Sorry if I hurt you yesterday, I was just _very _excited and also I wanted to ride your broomstick."

Harry laughed. "That's all right. I'm perfectly fine. Though I do have to tell you something important when I get out and we can find Hermione and Ron."

Amia's eyes lit up. "Really? What happened? Won't you tell me now?"

Harry sighed but then he smiled so Amia knew he wasn't angry. "Alright then." And with that he recounted the events of the past night. He told her about Dobby and Colin and the professors' conversation. Amia didn't know what to make of it, except that a very cold, unpleasant feeling crept into the pit of her stomach and spread all the way to her fingertips. The two sat there for a bit in a silence full of fears and suspicions.

Finally Amia said what probably every student in the school was thinking. "This is scary." She whispered, looking at Harry with wide eyes, and he nodded, but his expression was hard with stony determination.

"I know. But we'll figure it out. Me, you, Ron, Hermione. We'll figure it out together. We have to. Before someone gets hurt. Really hurt. The kind of hurt you can't cure."

Amia set her jaw and nodded once at him.

**Please review and again I'm really sorry. (So this is kind of a crazy chapter but I thought I should add something a little more serious at the beginning, plus Fred and George are awesome, and then there's that little somber bit at the end.)  
**

**Love,**

**Lost1nTheLight**


	13. Chapter 13: Sickness

**Author's Note: I am so sorry I've taken such a long time to write this chapter, I've just had a lot of other stuff happening and I wasn't really sure where I wanted it to go. So this is the best I could do, and I didn't want to make you guys wait any longer, so here you are. Please give me suggestions and review and tell me what you thought. Again I'm really sorry, please forgive me.  
**

Chapter 13: Sickness

"HA HA!" Fred shouted triumphantly. Amia tried to dash the other way but George popped up out of nowhere right in front of her.

"WE'VE GOT YOU NOW!" He yelled, pumping his fist in the air.

"VICTORY IS FINALLY OURS!" Fred laughed maniacally. Amia's eyes went wide and she spun around to escape, but when she tried to turn she fell flat on her face in the snow.

"Ready . . . NOW!" George commanded and Amia only had about half a second to raise her hands and cover her head before she was bombarded by snow balls.

"Finally! We've won! We're the champions!" Fred cried and he and George took a running leap into the mountain of snow, the two landing on either side of Amia. Then they grabbed handfuls of snow and shoved it down her shirt and into her face. She struggled to get away but their attack was too strong and at last she had no choice but to shield her face and curl into a ball.

"Alright, alright." The twins finally stopped when they had given her at least a ninety four percent chance of getting sick. Slowly, she lifted her hands and got to her feet, cheeks bright red, snow clinging to her long hair. Fred and George stood as well, on either side of her. George stuck out his hand. "You put up a noble fight, but alas our strength and brilliance was too much, and we beat you."

Amia was about to protest that it was definitely not fair that they were both older and it was two against one. After the others had gotten out it was just Amia, Fred, and George left. Amia had done her best to do her team proud, but the twins' power overwhelmed her in the end.

However, before she could say anything Fred grabbed the back of her shirt and a sharp stinging, unimaginable pain raced down her back. She screamed from the cold and shoved Fred away. Frantically, she tried to get the snow out, throwing off her coat and sweater in the process.

In fact she almost took off her very shirt she was so desperate, but before she could the twins mercifully shook out the snow. She stood there for a moment, panting, her back was still frozen and it hurt. It hurt the way a million needles might. Then, slowly she turned to face the twins. They glanced at each other worriedly, and she lunged. Both bolted and she ran after them, faster now that she wasn't weighed down by all the winter clothing she'd been wearing. Unfortunately, the other two still had their coats on and only a few seconds later she caught them. When she did she gave her best battle cry and charged the two, knocking them both into the snow and falling on top. But that didn't stop her. She attacked them viciously. She could barely even see what was going on, they were surrounded by a flurry of white and coldness but she kept going until she was exhausted, at which point she collapsed and laid on top of the twins for a few seconds, breathing heavily.

Eventually, Fred raised his head to look at her sheepishly. Although she was determined, her attack hadn't been nearly as bad as theirs, she was much younger and smaller and could only do so much. "Are you okay, Amia?"

The little girl looked at him. Amidst all the chaos, the twins hadn't realized exactly to what extent they had gone to. She didn't look good. Her dark eyelashes had snowflakes caught in them, making her grey eyes look icy. Her skin was white from the cold and could almost blend in with the snow. Her lips had a tinge of blue in them and her hair was caked with snow. Her hands were red and they shook a tiny bit.

"It's cold." She said, and it came out almost as a whimper. The twins stood and Fred picked her up.

"Okay, let's go inside." He told her.

George picked up her discarded clothing as they went.

Hermione, Harry, Ron, a boy whose name she always forgot – Nelvin or something, Dean, Seamus, and Lee Jordan waited for them near the entrance to the castle. "What's wrong?" Hermione asked when they reached them, frowning.

George gave a guilty smile. "We may have gone a teensy tiny bit overboard."

"Is she okay?" Hermione looked at her friend, eyes wide.

"I'm fine." Amia said quickly, but her teeth were chattering. "Just – just cold."

"We'll go up to the common room and warm you up, okay?" Fred assured her, walking ahead of the others so they could get there as quickly as possible.

By the time they actually stepped into the common room Amia's entire body was shaking and she felt as if she'd been stuck in a freezer for days. She crawled up to the dormitory and into the bathroom (literally), and filled the tub with warm water. When she got in it felt like how she would imagine heaven. Well, actually that's not true. At first it burned. It burned so bad she had to bite her lip to keep from crying, but once her fingers stopped shaking and the warmth seeped into her bones, it made her feel better than she had been feeling for a long, long, time.

She got dressed in sweatpants that actually belonged to Ron so they were much too big, thermal socks, a long sleeve shirt with a fleece sweater over top, and a winter hat with a monkey on it.

Down in the common room the others were sitting by the fire. "But did she ask her?" Harry was saying, frowning.

Hermione shook her head. "No. She was too scared."

Ron sat back. "That's bad. That's – that's not right."

"She shouldn't be afraid to talk to her own –"

Amia cut Harry off by announcing herself. "Hi guys." All three immediately snapped their mouths shut and turned to look at her.

Hermione was the first to recover, surprisingly good at pretending nothing had happened. "Hey Amia, are you okay?"

Amia swallowed whatever she was feeling at having her friends talk about her and smiled brightly. "Yeah I'm fine now. Still a little cold but I'm fine."

She could see the concern dissolve from Hermione's face.

"Come sit by the fire, Amia. It will help." Fred suggested. Funny how the twins at one point could be shoving snow down her shirt and the next be taking care of her like the sweetest people you could ever meet. Amia's way of thanking him was flopping onto his lap and pulling a blanket over herself. Fred pretended to grumble but in the end couldn't help himself from smiling. She laid her head on his chest and let the heat lull her to sleep.

* * *

The next day Amia was still cold. She had to steal one of George's sweaters, put winter stockings on over her tights, and wear the same hat she had on the night before just to stop her teeth from chattering. It didn't make a difference when Harry hugged her, or Ron got her to wear his sweater as well, or when Hermione rubbed her hands to keep her warm, nothing made a difference. She just couldn't shake the cold. Even in Lockhart's class she couldn't insult him appropriately. And in Snape's she couldn't annoy him as usual. And in Flitwick's she couldn't make a single remark about wishing she could charm a beard like Dumbledore's onto her own face.

The whole situation was quite worrisome for Amia because she had never before been sick the way she was now, and she didn't know what to do to make it stop. She refused to go to the hospital wing because she'd decided that she'd had quite enough of waking up to white ceilings and walls and that same lavender scent that had first made her realize that something terrible had happened and she might never in her life see her Papa again.

By night Hermione was concerned enough that she ordered Amia to go to bed early and even offered to do her homework for her. Which was a sure sign of how bad she thought things were. Amia didn't protest, but rested her head on her wonderful monkey pillow and closed her eyes.

However, she couldn't sleep. Each time she drifted off dreams that made no sense attacked her and she woke up again shivering. It went on like that until at one point near midnight Hermione got up and wrapped Amia in a cocoon of warm blankets and laid next to her until she went to sleep. Amia didn't have a single other dream that night.

* * *

She woke up panting. Her entire body was soaked in sweat and her head felt like it was on fire. Her wet hair was plastered to her forehead and she felt so weak she could barely even move. Everything hurt and she couldn't see clearly. Was she dying?

She let out a moan and tried to push off the covers but instead ended up tangling herself in them. "Mione, help." Her voice was raspy and as soon as the words escaped her mouth she was engulfed in a coughing fit. "Mione."

It seemed to take hours for Hermione to run to her bed and place a hand over her forehead. The girl retracted it as if she'd been stung. "Amia you're burning hot. I'm going to get Madam Pomfrey, okay? Stay here." Hermione commanded and took off running, still in her night dress.

Amia did as she said until her stomach betrayed her and she had to stumble into the bathroom and crouch by the toilet, throwing up yesterday's meals. As soon as she thought it was finished and would begin wiping the bile from her mouth it would start again. Apparently, the sound of her being sick was loud enough to wake the other girls, and Parvati came rushing in to pull back her hair while Lavender stayed far away, covering her mouth and keeping her eyes fixed determinedly on anything but the bathroom.

When Hermione got back she spent at least ten minutes rubbing Amia's back while she emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet. When it was finally over she wiped her mouth exhaustedly, looked at Hermione kneeling in front of her, and started to cry.

Madam Pomfrey dabbed at her forehead with a cold cloth sympathetically and then together the three helped Amia stand and make her way back to her bed.

Madam Pomfrey bent over and felt her chin and forehead. Then she straightened up and pursed her lips. "I'm sorry my dear, but it appears you have a very high fever. I'm afraid there isn't really much I can do. You're going to be feeling unpleasant for some time, so lay down and we'll make you comfortable." The nurse told her unhappily. Amia sniffed and put her head back on the pillow.

They got her a collection of warm blankets, gave her some wool socks, made her a cup of tea that sat on her bedside table, and placed the cool cloth on her forehead, but none of it made a difference. She was miserable. All she wanted to do was go to sleep forever. Honestly, she was convinced she was _dying._ Her body ached. Her head pounded. Her stomach hurt. She was hot. She was cold. Everything felt heavy and she hated it. She couldn't think clearly. Her thoughts were muddled. Her hands were shaking and she was worried that the bowl beside her bed wouldn't be close enough if she started vomiting again.

She didn't stop feeling terrible right up to the moment she fell asleep, and even then she still felt the same. It was when she woke up hours later that for a fraction of a second she didn't feel so bad.

Her vision cleared slowly and through the blurriness she saw a head of red hair. A head of red hair and freckles and all she could think was that Ginny loved her again and she had been worried and everything was going to be okay again. But when the haze of sleep lifted completely she realized the hair was too short and the person too tall. Ron. That made her start to cry all over again.

It wasn't fair. What had she done wrong? What had she done to make her own sister hate her so much? Amia didn't understand and it made her feel even worse. Everything was bad. In that moment, that was the truth. Through those cloudy, confused, sick eyes everything was bad. Right then. Right there. There was no cure for something like this. Her world had just started to rebuild itself up around her, strong and steady, and in one moment it had all come crashing back down around her. Crashing, crashing, crashing. Over and over and over.

* * *

"I want to go home." Amia told them. She had just gotten better from her fever that had lasted four days. FOUR DAYS. She had even missed the Dueling Club which she'd been looking forward to. Though the news that Harry was a snake talking legend in the school had not escaped her knowledge even if she hadn't been out of the dormitory. Amia thought it was cool, but apparently others did not share her opinion. Her friends looked at her in shock.

"Pardon?" Hermione asked, frowning like she didn't understand what she'd said even though the words had been perfectly clear.

"I don't want to stay. I want to go home. I want to leave. I want to go home and go to sleep and stay asleep and be happy." She was exhausted. You noticed it most now because she'd just stayed in bed and threw up and slept for four days, but the truth was that she'd been exhausted for months. She'd been exhausted since she'd run from her Papa. She'd been exhausted since she'd gotten lost that day in Diagon Alley. She'd been exhausted since Ginny had stopped loving her. She'd been exhausted since Madam Pomfrey had given her that potion. She was just so, so tired.

"But what about the Polyjuice –" Harry started but Amia just shook her head and let her eyes shift to where the snow fell softly past the glass of the window in the library.

"You guys do it. I can't." She responded. No one else said anything for a long while afterwards because they knew there was nothing they could do to make her stay. She was too sad. Too hurt. She needed to go home. She needed to have a family and be happy and smile and the three friends could only hope that would be enough to fix her but they really didn't know.

"Okay." Ron finally said. "We'll tell you everything that happened when you get back, alright?"

Amia nodded but it didn't seem like she had even heard what he'd said.

"Have a good time there, okay? And rest." Hermione almost looked like she was pleading. Amia didn't get it. What could rest do? Hermione had said before that everything would be better when she woke up, but it wasn't. It stayed the same. She was scared that it would stay the same forever. "We'll tell Professor McGonagall tonight."

This time she didn't reply, just stood, gathered up her books and left. It was like she was in a trance and she herself didn't know what she was doing.

* * *

"Bye Amia, I'll miss you so much." Hermione hugged the little girl tightly. Amia smoothed back her bushy hair and nodded.

"I'm going to miss you too."

Harry hugged her as well and then stepped back, giving her a nod. Ron just gave her a pat on the shoulder and went to stand beside his friends. They waved as Amia got onto the train, clutching her monkey pillow tightly. She didn't really want to go, but she didn't want to stay either.

She sent them one last smile before she disappeared from view, making her way onto the train. Who was she going to sit with? Who _could_ she sit with? She wandered around a little while, but by the time the train had begun moving she still hadn't found a seat.

Amia sighed, dropped down to the floor, and put the pillow up against the wall to rest her head on. There. That was the best solution she could think of. It actually was quite comfortable, and she was almost falling asleep when a voice made her leap to her feet and brandish her wand. But instead of a serial killer, in front of her stood that Nelvin boy.

He froze, mouth half open, eyes wide with alarm. Amia put away her wand and picked up her pillow. "Hi."

"Umm, h-hello." Nelvin stuttered. "I was just w-wondering if you h-had somewhere to sit. Because if y-you don't you can come s-sit with me."

Amia narrowed her eyes at him and it was like a standoff for a second, except one side was cowering and stammering which kind of defeated the purpose. Then out of nowhere her hand shot up and clapped over his mouth. He jumped in surprise and stared at her, frightened. "If you keep stuttering your teeth will fall out and you'll choke on your own blood and die." She told him, seriously enough that the Minister of Magic would believe her.

Nelvin looked terrified at this point but nodded his head quickly and snapped his mouth shut. Amia retracted her hand. "Are you scared of me?"

Nelvin shook his head rapidly.

"Good!" She chirped. "That means we can be best friends, right? Right. Let's go. The floor was hurting my butt anyway." Even though it wasn't. Nelvin still looked the tiniest bit afraid, but he was smiling at the same time, so Amia decided that was a good thing.

He led her to the compartment where he'd come from and sat down, waiting for Amia to do the same. But she didn't sit, she threw her monkey pillow onto the floor and sprawled across the carpet between the two seats on either side of the compartment. Nelvin knit his eyebrows together but said nothing.

After ten minutes of this Amia decided she had to be the one to break the silence. "So Nelvin."

"Uh – my name's actually Neville." He cut in.

"Oh. Well that's good. Nelvin is a terrible name. I'm glad your name is Neville, Neville. My name's Amia." She stopped there. She didn't know what else to say. Neville really should have been the one making conversation seeing as he was the one who'd been talking to people all his life. Amia had only had her Papa for more than ten years.

"I know. I've seen you. I've heard about you too." Neville commented. Amia was suddenly struck by the oddness of it. Everything that made him sound nervous, confused, afraid, had disappeared from his voice and Amia found she liked listening to him speak. He was kind.

"Oh?" She raised her eyebrows but kept her eyes on the ceiling, not looking at him.

"You're friends with Ron and Harry and Hermione, aren't you?"

"I guess so."

"And you live with the Weasleys."

"At the moment." Thankfully he didn't question the statement.

Silence.

"What do you know about me, Neville?" Amia suddenly asked.

He thought about it for a second. "You're young. You're younger than the rest of us. You're different too. You're not . . . afraid of things. I don't know. No one really knows anything about you except Ron and Harry and Hermione and Fred and George."

"No. I mean what do you know about _me? _I mean why did you ask me to sit with you? I mean how come you aren't afraid anymore, or shy or nervous?"

"You look sad. You always look sad." He blurted. "But you can still be happy at the same time somehow. You smile and laugh." Amia finally looked up at him. That was the first time she'd heard someone say something like that. She hadn't even realized it was true until Neville said so. "Sometimes I see you in class, and it's like you're not even there. You just seem so set apart from everyone else. I can almost feel it when I stand near you."

Amia didn't know what to say to that.

"Have you ever really loved someone, Neville?"

"Yes." His answer came without hesitation.

"Who?"

This time he paused before responding. "My parents." There was something in his voice when he said it. Amia couldn't identify it but in those two words she realized that there were things hiding behind Neville's stuttering, frightened appearance. Of course there was. She should have known sooner. She didn't mention it though. Just like Neville was trying to figure her out without cutting open her stomach and chest to be able to see her heart clearly, she would give him the same kindness.

"Do you think it's possible to love someone and then just stop? Just like that?"

"No." He told her. "You can't. You just can't. I'm sure you know that. After whatever's happened to you, you must know that."

Amia nodded. It was true. Even after seeing her own Papa kill someone while they were on their knees begging for mercy, she still loved him. She was always going to love him, no matter what ended up happening.

So how could Ginny hate her so much? How could she love her one day and the next be completely indifferent? It didn't make sense.

Maybe Ginny had never loved her at all. Maybe she'd convinced herself that she had a sister, and a family, and friends, and people who cared about her. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe no one really cared at all. Maybe Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Charlie, Bill, maybe none of them loved her.

After all, how could they if the only person had ever really loved her was a murderer? A killer. A killer who laughed as they watched an innocent man fall to the ground. Cold and dead.

**Please review and everything, I'm really sorry once again.**

**Love,**

**Lost1nTheLight**


	14. Chapter 14: All Alone

**Author's Note: Alright, a couple of warnings: One, this chapter sucks. Two, there's a lot of crying. So, I'm so so so so so so so so sorry at how long this took to update and that the last few chapters haven't been that good. There's just been a problem with my other story and I'm trying to figure it out and it's going to take a lot of time and also it's been making me feel pretty low lately, so I apologize. I know that I shouldn't let what goes on with my other story affect this one and for that I'm sorry. I really hope you guys can forgive me, but I promise that once Amia isn't sad all the time anymore it will get better. Basically, this chapter is over a couple months, and it's just little parts of what happens to her, because in all honestly most of the time she doesn't notice or care about what's going on around her because she'd just really sad and lonely and blah blah blah. Yeah, so I know that this is a really bad chapter but I would still appreciate it if you guys reviewed and everything. Just to give some suggestions or ideas on how to make it better or whatever. Anyways, do your best to get through it: **

Chapter 14: All Alone

It turned out that going home for the holidays was no better than staying at Hogwarts. Amia felt like a puzzle piece that had been forced into a spot that wasn't her own. Jammed in, having to reshape itself, but never quite belonging as comfortably and effortlessly as those that were placed in their rightful spots. That's what it was like with the Weasleys.

They were worried. For her and for Ginny. The two little girls were evidently not the same, but no one could find out what had happened. It came to the point that Amia was too sad and frightened that she refused to stay in the same room as Ginny, and Ginny was cold. The moment they got home Amia had gathered the things she actually owned on her own from Ginny's room and left, putting them in Charlie's. She wouldn't even wear the clothes that Ginny and her shared because she was afraid that the other girl would be angry. However the rest of the family didn't notice this as much as they noticed the change in Ginny. Of course. Ginny was actually a part of the Weasleys. Amia wasn't. It made sense. So while they tried to figure out what was wrong with their daughter, Amia stayed quiet and out of the way. Most of the time you wouldn't even know that she was there. That's what it was like the whole holiday.

But at night when the loneliness was almost unbearable, she would bury her face in the blankets on the floor of Charlie's room she was sleep on to try and muffled her crying so she wouldn't wake him.

On Christmas Eve though, after she watched everyone laughing and eating together – even Ginny – she went up to bed early. Excusing herself so quietly she thought no one had heard or even noticed.

She was wrong.

After Ginny and the twins had gone up to bed as well, though most likely not sleeping from the excitement of what was to come the next day, the older Weasleys sat at the table. Charlie had seen the dark circles under Amia's eyes and decided something needed to be done.

"There's something wrong. Really wrong. Fred and George said that at school it's the same. Since October. _October._ She's been like that for months. There's something wrong with her and Ginny and it's got to be fixed." Charlie said.

"But what is there to do when we don't know what's wrong and they won't say?" Mr. Weasley sighed.

Charlie shook his head.

"You need to do something." Bill nodded at his younger brother. Charlie frowned. What could he do? "She's sleeping in your room after all. Why do you think that is? Don't push it. Just make sure she knows that she doesn't have to be so lonely all the time. That there are people who care about her. And then all there is left to do is hope that she believes you."

Charlie closed his eyes. He was right. That was just about the only thing they actually _could _do. He got up to get ready for bed but stopped with a hand on the door frame, turning back to look at them. "You don't think she – you know – that she's –" He couldn't even get the words out.

Bill passed a hand over his face. "All we can do is pray. Pray to God that she isn't."

Charlie nodded and left, wondering how such things could have possibly happened to his two baby sisters.

* * *

When Charlie quietly closed the door of his room behind him, Amia quickly hid her face in the pillow so he wouldn't be able to see the tears. He knew though.

Leaving the light off, he changed into his pajamas and climbed into bed. She didn't know that he knew she was awake, so he kept pretending as he thought about what to do. He had no idea how to help her. He thought about it for a long time, in fact he didn't realize that he had laid there for so long that she thought he'd fallen asleep. He came out of his trance when he heard her sniffling and a rustling that he knew meant she must have been wiping the tears from her cheeks.

He felt something strange in his heart. Like it was being crushed. All he knew for sure was that it hurt, watching her hurt.

So without another thought he climbed out of bed and laid down next to her on the floor. Amia quickly shrunk away, startled that he was awake. She did her best to hide in the blankets so he couldn't see her face but really there was no point, so he put a hand on her cheek to stop her. Amia froze and looked at him through the blackness, the only thing she was able to see clearly were his eyes.

Sometimes things are much more beautiful in the shadows. Sometimes it's the golden light of the sun you need to illuminate the loveliness from deep within a person. But sometimes it's the night. The night that shows best all the deep, tragic beauty people hide inside their souls, raw and pure and only visible in the darkness, when a person's eyes shine with all the terrible secrets they keep.

Charlie wrapped his arms around her in silence and kissed her forehead, closing his eyes. The truth was that he didn't know how to fix this at all, and it frightened him. He didn't know what had happened to the two girls. He didn't know how to help. He didn't even know if anyone could help, and he was terrified that they would end up staying like that – almost crippled from the sadness – forever.

* * *

Christmas day was the worst part. Amia was so scared that she was going to go down there and feel the same she did every other day, that she locked herself in Charlie's room and hid in the closet. No one would come up to find her, she knew. No one cared.

Her heart pounded. She didn't know why. It beat furiously and she had to close her eyes to try and control it. But she couldn't. She couldn't control anything. She started to panic, sitting in that closet all alone. She was frightened that she was going to have to see them again. That they weren't going to even realize she was gone, but at the same time that they were. She was scared of everything, and the fact that she was scared, scared her. She began to shake.

There was something very wrong with her.

She stayed there all day. And when she heard Charlie open the door she was so petrified with fear, so horrified, that she started to cry, covering her mouth, hardly able to breathe.

As Charlie pushed aside his clothes and picked her up, she clawed at him. The fear was so overwhelming that she didn't realize that he was crying. He sat down on his bed cross legged with the little girl in his arms, stroking her hair and hushing her gently. They sat like that for a long time, and eventually Amia fell asleep, exhausted. But Charlie didn't. He stayed there, staring at the wall silently, face pressed against her hair, cheeks stained with tears.

Then he laid her down in his bed, pulled the blankets up, took a small box covered in wrapping paper out of his pocket, and placed next to her.

"Happy Christmas Amia."

* * *

In the middle of the night Amia woke up from a bad dream. She sat up and felt the mattress move under her. The mattress. She was in Charlie's bed. He was on the floor, sleeping. Frowning, she slowly climbed out. As she pushed the blankets aside something felt to the floor with a light thump. Amia bent down to grab it and realized that it was a present. A Christmas present. Who it was for she had no idea.

She turned it over in her small hands and found a tiny note on the other side:

Mia,

This is for you. So you can remember how much I love you. I know you may have forgotten. I can hear it in the way you cry yourself to sleep, and the silence that surrounds you every other moment of the day. But hopefully this will remind you – maybe not today but someday – that the truth is I love you more than you can imagine. And maybe when you finally remember, you'll see that you don't have to be so sad and alone all the time.

Your favourite brother of all time (obviously),

Charlie

A small smile traced over Amia's mouth when she read the end bit, but it quickly disappeared. Brother he had written. Like a family.

Her fingers trembled a little as she untied the bow and took the lid off the tiny box. Inside sat a black string with two dried rose petals and a small wooden circle underneath them that had the words: _Never Forget _carved into it. Amia covered her mouth with her hand and slipped the necklace over her head. The rose petals sat in front of the wood so no one could read what it said unless the petals were moved.

She tucked the note into the pocket of her pajamas and crouched down. Quietly, she leaned over and gave Charlie a kiss on the cheek.

When she did she tasted salt.

Quickly she stood and went to the bathroom, vision turning blurry. Those were tears. He'd been crying. _She'd _made him cry. It was her fault.

She felt so incredibly guilty she couldn't even describe it. How could she have possibly made such a strong person cry? What was wrong with her?

* * *

She sat with Neville again on the way back. And she enjoyed it. With just quiet, kind Neville and her monkey pillow, it was nice.

And then they got back to the castle and she felt so incredibly small and lonely that it was unbearable.

There was something wrong with Ron and Harry and Hermione. They were acting strange. They told her about what Malfoy had said, which wasn't much, and then basically ran away (though in a much more elegant way than that).

She didn't get it. Them too? Why was it like this? She didn't even have the strength to wonder what she'd done this time. She just flopped onto her bed in the dormitory and stayed there. She didn't cry, she didn't scream, she laid there until it was dark and then fell asleep, hating everything but at the same time not caring at all.

* * *

Amia was miserable all the time. The only person who she could be with that didn't make her feel like absolute rubbish was Neville, and even then most of the time she just cried.

That's what it was like to be honest. She just cried and cried and cried. It was either that or she felt nothing. So the truth was that Neville was actually _relieved _when she cried. And he felt terrible. Things should never be so bad that it was a _good _thing when you cried.

It crushed Hermione to see Amia like that, and she tried to help but there was really nothing you could do when you're keeping a secret the way she was, and so Amia mostly didn't even want to be around her. And that made Hermione feel awful. It was the same with Ron and Harry. They couldn't get close because they were scared of what their secret meant, but they didn't want to have to watch Amia crash and burn any longer. There was nothing they could do though.

For months this went on. And then Professor McGonagall called her, Harry and Ron away from class one day.

The Professor lead them to the hospital wing and then to a bed. Hermione was on that bed. Hermione was petrified on that bed. Ron made kind of a small gasping noise and Harry knelt down next to her, eyes wide. But Amia just stood there. Just stood there and stared at Hermione. Then she turned on her heel and ran out of the hospital wing. She ran to the girls' lavatory, locked herself on a stall and held her head in her hands. Of the eleven years of her life, these past few months were worse than all the other bad things that had happened to her put together. She didn't even feel alive anymore. She didn't even feel like she _wanted _to be alive anymore.

As soon as the thought entered her mind Amia squeezed her eyes shut tightly. "Stop. Please just stop." She whispered. Over and over and over.

* * *

Things got, if it was possible, even worse after that. Hagrid left. Harry and Ron were off no doubt being heroes, and Amia couldn't even cry anymore. It was the truth, she couldn't. And then, as if Malfoy was hoping to win some sort of award to prove that he could do the impossible, he managed to _make _her cry.

If you thought about it, it was almost funny to be honest.

Amia was just sitting next to Neville during a particular potions class, watching blankly as he put the wrong ingredients in, when what do you know, the lovely Professor Snape came over himself.

"Longbottom! Are you blind? Can you not see this hideous colour that you've made your potion into?" He snapped.

"I – I –" Neville began but was cut off by a sharp look from the professor. Don't stutter Neville, Amia wanted to say but the same thing that made her stare at her food in the Great Hall on her own instead of asking Ron and Harry if she could sit with them wouldn't let her open her mouth and say the words.

"It doesn't matter. You are dismissed from this class for today. I've had enough of your incompetence." Snape drawled.

Miserably, Neville gathered up his things. Amia opened her mouth, but no words came out so she closed it again.

"Hey Riddle!" Malfoy's voice hissed from behind her. She didn't turn around. "Do you even have any friends? All you did was watch as Professor Snape kicked Longbottom out, rightfully so might I add." Snickers. She said nothing. "Now I can see why the rest of them didn't want to be near you. Obviously they would stop caring when they realized that you don't have any feelings at all. Well, unless you're crying, which you seem to do a lot." More laughing. "Potter, Weasley, Granger, Weasley's sister. They all hate you don't they? In fact I wouldn't be surprised if Granger was glad when she got petrified – so she wouldn't have to be around you anymore!" A burst of ugly giggles, probably from the pug. "Are you even alive? At least before you were just another stuck up Gryffindor idiot, now you're just like a zombie. You don't talk. You don't do anything in class but stare at the wall. You don't eat the food in the Great Hall, and your face seems to have that rather unsightly emotionless expression glued onto it permanently." Obviously this was just too hilarious for the pug to handle because she dissolved into a fit of laughter.

Snape turned around and narrowed his eyes in Amia's direction. "Is there a problem?"

"Not at all professor." Malfoy snorted. Then he lowered his voice again. "Why are you even here? Who did you live with before? Probably some evil murderer judging by the way you act."

That made Amia stiffen. The first thing she'd felt in some time. Her face went hot and her eyes got watery. And then they were dismissed, the first thing Amia had been happy about in quite some time. She slung her bag onto her shoulder and walked out the door as quickly as she could, making her way to an empty corridor, even though the students weren't supposed to be alone.

She wiped the tears away and then looked at her wet shirt sleeve. She didn't know which was worse. Drowning or suffocating. Feeling nothing or everything.

And then of course there he was again, strolling over to stand in front of her, a proud smirk displayed across his features. What was wrong with him? Did making little girls cry make him feel good? How could he possibly be proud of something like that?

"You know, I don't understand how you can walk around with that indifferent look all the time. Aren't you angry? Aren't you furious that every single person who loved you let you down? And now you're all alone? You don't have even one person that cares about you; that you can trust. You have absolutely no one. That should at least make you sad. I would think that it would break your heart." He said.

She looked at him. He was telling the truth. A couple tears slipped down her cheeks and she nodded, almost laughing at how Malfoy could know that when apparently no one else did. "Yeah." She whispered. "It does make me sad."

He opened his mouth to make another biting remark but stopped.

"But sometimes it's better to feel nothing than to be sad _all the time._" She gave him a small smile, hoping it would make him realize he was wasting his energy. There wasn't a single bad thing he could say about her that she hadn't thought herself at least ten times.

Then she shouldered past him and walked away down the empty corridor, leaving him to stare after her.

* * *

It turned out what she was going towards was much more unpleasant than what she'd left behind. As she turned a corner she ran into Harry and Ron, whose faces were as white as the hospital wing walls. She swiftly stepped around them but Harry grabbed her wrist and pulled her back around the corner. She gave him a disbelieving look and yanked her arm away but he wouldn't let go. Just as she was opening her mouth to tell him to get away he slapped his other hand over her mouth. Ron brought a finger to his lips. That's when she heard the footsteps.

She shoved Harry away but stayed where she was, turning to see what was going on. She wished she hadn't.

On the wall in front of them, where the teachers were gathering, red words had been painted – with what Amia didn't want to know.

_Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever._

Amia had to cover her mouth because she was afraid she was going to throw up. Professor Flitwick burst into tears.

"Which student?" Another teacher asked, hands trembling the slightest bit.

"Ginny Weasley." Professor McGonagall said gravely.

Amia barely noticed as Ron slid down to the ground beside her. She couldn't move. Ginny. Suddenly it felt like the ground was falling out below her and she sunk to her knees. Ginny.

"We'll have to send the students home immediately. Hogwarts is finished." Professor McGonagall announced.

Amia's head was pounding. She had no idea what happened next. Except that Ron was sitting beside her and he'd just discovered that his sister was as good as dead. She didn't care if he hated her. If he never wanted to see her again. She just wrapped her arms around him silently. And much to her surprise, he rested his cheek against the top of her head.

It wasn't until the teachers left that Amia let go and stood, facing the boys, jaw clenched. "Whatever stupid thing you guys are going to do, I'm coming too. I don't care if you hate me, I don't care if Ginny hates me, I don't care if anyone hates me. I'm going."

"Amia, we don't –" Harry began but she held up her hand and cut him off. It didn't matter what he was going to say.

"I'm going."

"Alright. Of course. But Amia we don't –" Harry tried again.

"Harry I don't care what you have to say!" Her voice went about an octave higher than usual. Because she really did care what he was going to say but Ginny was gone and even though she might have hated Amia, Amia still loved her and she didn't want to cry again, she just wanted Ginny to be okay. "I don't care, I don't care, I don't care. So _stop. _Just stop. Please."

Harry closed his mouth. He looked so sad Amia had to turn away. She didn't want to see that.

"Alright let's go." Ron said. The first words he'd spoken since they'd seen the message.

"Let's go." Harry agreed. And they did.

**Review and everything, even if you just want to tell me you hated it because you know what I would totally understand.**

**Love,**

**Lost1nTheLight**


	15. Chapter 15: The Monster

**Author's Note: So I really just hated the chapter and I felt so bad leaving you guys on something written so horribly that I wrote for hours afterwards and so I could put this up. It's the next chapter and it's much better than the last (I think) so here you go. Please review because I really want to know what you guys think and it would just mean a lot.**

**Thanks xoxoxoxo**

Chapter 15: The Monster

"We should go and tell Lockhart what we know. He's going to be the one trying to get into the Chamber, we can help him out." Ron suggested. Amia didn't want to go speak with Lockhart at all, he wasn't going to help, they might as well just so it on their own. Apparently Harry and Ron had all sorts of information she'd never heard about anyway. But it was Ron's sister and she wasn't going to tell him no.

"Okay." Harry agreed, and they got up and left. Good thing no one was willing to stop them, because Amia was so angry and frustrated and scared that she probably would have ended up punching them in the faces so they would let them by.

It was starting to get dark as they approached Lockhart's office. It sounded like he was having a party in there, there were all sorts of noises. But as soon as Harry rapped his fist against the wood of the door it went silent.

It took a moment for the Doll to open the door, and when he did he looked very twitchy and uncomfortable. "This uh – this really isn't a good time –"

"Who cares if it's a good time or not? They've got stuff to tell you so shut your mouth and listen." Amia snapped rudely. That shut him up.

The three children made their way into his office. There were bags and trunks everywhere, books off their shelves, clothes hanging over furniture, and all the items that had sat on his desk had disappeared into boxes.

"Are you going somewhere?" Harry asked, and Amia became aware of a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"Well – um – yes." Lockhart continued to pack hurriedly as they stood there, staring at him in disbelief. "There's been an urgent call that I must attend to immediately, really I've got no other choice you see . . ."

"You're kidding." Amia gave him a disgusted look.

"What about my sister?" Ron exclaimed, eyes wild.

"Well, there's really – that's very unfortunate but –"

"See, I told you he was a cowardly fraud from the beginning." Amia crossed her arms, hardly able to even look at him.

"So all those things in your books were lies?" Harry shouted.

"Well what do you think, that I would become famous for publishing books about a bunch of nobodies that managed to wave their wands the right way? No! The public wanted a hero, and who better than me?"

"You are completely vile." Amia announced, hardly able to contain her hatred.

"Now young lady, I didn't do nothing at all. No, no, I'm actually quite gifted with memory charms. You have to be in this sort of situation."

"And that makes you less despicable?!" Amia cried. She took a step back, worried she was going to be infected with the man's loathsome ways.

The Doll banged a trunk closed, whipped around and brandished his wand. "So sorry, but you see I can't have you going around and revealing my secrets to everyone. No, no, I have no other choice but to use a memory charm on you."

Amia's mouth dropped open. This guy got worse and worse by the second. She couldn't believe his – his – there wasn't even a word for it!

Before the doll could do anything though, Harry shouted, "Expelliarmus!" and Lockhart's wand flew out of his hand out the window and he was thrown backwards.

Amia was about to give him an approving nod but them remembered that he actually didn't care about her anymore, and stopped herself.

"There's nothing that I can do!" Lockhart tried.

"Well lucky for you, we do, and we know what's inside it as well." Harry said, then forced Lockhart onto his feet and led them out. Amia glanced at the boys, she knew that they hadn't even wanted to talk to her, much less tell her their secrets, but she was still hurt that they'd gotten far enough to know where it was and what was in it, and hadn't said a single thing to her.

They went all the way to Moaning Murtle's bathroom, where the ghost that frightened Amia tremendously appeared. While Harry talked to her, Amia glared at Lockhart, who kept shifting uncomfortably under her rather terrifying, furious stare.

"Gee Amia," Ron muttered. "If Lockhart survives he's going to spend the rest of his life cowering away from little eleven year old girls because of you."

Amia glanced over to flash him a smile but stopped herself again. Hoping that they could be friends again would only crush her once more.

A couple minutes later Harry had found the opening to the Chamber of Secrets. It was a rusty tap with a tiny snake engraved on the metal. He stood back and then said some weird hissy thing that Amia guessed was Parseltongue. It was really cool.

Then the sink began to move. It sunk into the ground and disappeared, leaving a huge, dirty pipe.

"Alright then. Well done. It seems you hardly need me –" Lockhart tried to make a run for it but Amia kicked him in the shins and then dragged him back to the pipe.

"Well done Amia." Ron laughed, Harry nodded. But Amia just clenched her jaw and stared at the ground.

"I really don't think –" Lockhart tried one last time but Amia was so tired of the appalling, cowardly creature that she shoved him into the pipe without another word. The boys both stared at her and she shrugged.

Harry went next, then Ron. Amia hesitated before jumping down, but Moaning Murtle was watching her and it was very unnerving so she jumped down.

The pipe was very long, and it took ages for her to reach the bottom, where she feel on top of Harry. Quickly she scrambled away and dusted off her robes. It was wet and dark and when she moved something crunched under her feet. Harry whispered some spell under his breath and a light at the end of his wand allowed Amia to see the other three in front of her.

They were standing in a tunnel.

"Remember," Harry said quietly. "Any sign of movement, close your eyes straight away."

And on they went, until something large and looming blocked their path. Harry raised his wand and Amia squinted. How lovely, it was a giant snake skin. As they were staring at it Lockhart collapsed. What a weakling.

Ron pointed his wand at him and suddenly the Doll lunged and grabbed the wand out of his hands. He straightened and grinned. "Well, well, it looks like this is where it ends for you three. What a tragic story it will be, I couldn't save the girl and the three of you lost your minds when you saw her cold, limp body. Say good-bye to your memories!"

He raised the wand and bellowed, "Obliviate!" Dramatically.

The next second a huge force exploded from the wand and all Amia knew to do was run. She followed Harry, arms shielding her head, out of the way of giant pieces of stone raining down from the tunnel ceiling, creating a barrier of rock separating them from Ron and the Doll.

"Are you alright Amia?" Harry asked worriedly. She nodded, though there was a large gash on her forehead that stung painfully and a bunch of dirt had gotten into her eyes, making them burn.

"Ron!" He yelled. "Are you okay?"

"I'm here!" Ron's voice traveled back from the other side of the barrier. "I'm fine. Lockhart the little prat isn't though. He's gotten himself blasted by the wand. He can't remember a thing!"

Amia fidgeted nervously, feeling very trapped.

"Amia and I will go on and try and find Ginny. You see if you can move some of the rock. If we're not back in an hour then . . ." Harry trailed off.

"Alright." Ron's voice shook. "See you soon."

They made their way down the tunnel, through twists and turns, both children involuntarily grasping hands in the wide, unwavering darkness. After quite some time, they came to a large, thick metal door with two serpents intertwined on it.

Amia watched as Harry used his hissy Parseltonguey words again and the two serpents slid apart, let the door open with a loud, hollow creak.

And together the two stepped inside.

It was a long chamber. That probably should have been expected. Stone pillars with snakes carved into them shot up into the darkness where the ceiling couldn't be seen. Amia stayed close to Harry, eyes darting around fearfully. The place was almost eerie.

As they got closer to the end of the chamber a small body became apparent, lying on the floor. Ginny. Amia let Harry's hand go and ran to the girl's side. She was white and cold as ice. A hurricane of emotions rushed through Amia's body as she put her cheek against Ginny's, Harry muttering desperately beside her.

"She won't wake." Someone said quietly. Harry jumped and spun around but Amia didn't look up.

"Tom – Tom Riddle?" Harry said.

Amia shot up and stared at him. Harry looked at her, eyes sad, and shook his head, as if to say he was sorry.

Amia breathed heavily and glanced at who Harry had been talking to.

A tall, handsome, black-haired stood a few feet away. Amia slowly stood and brought a shaking hand up to cover her mouth. He was a few years younger than her Papa, but other than that they were the exact same.

He smiled softly at her. "Hello sweetheart."

Her eyes went wide and she just stood there. She couldn't move. But a sob escaped her mouth and she quickly pressed the other hand over her mouth as well, vision blurring.

"Amia," Harry tried to say.

"How do you know his name?" She whispered, not taking her eyes off her Papa. When he didn't answer she whirled around. "HOW DO YOU KNOW HIS NAME?" She half screamed half cried.

"Don't cry darling." Her Papa said quietly. "It's alright."

Harry turned back to her Papa, not able to look at Amia's tear-streaked face. "What do you mean she won't wake?" He ask desperately.

"She's still alive." Riddle answered. "But only just."

Amia looked at him in confusion. "Papa, what's going on?" She asked.

"Come here my love, everything's alright." He beckoned to her. She stepped toward him slowly.

"Are you a ghost?" Harry asked.

"A memory."

Amia stopped. What was going on? "What do you mean a memory?"

"Don't worry. You'll see soon enough."

"Amia, please, I know you're angry but I need your help." Harry said, trying to get Ginny up. Even though Amia was confused and furious and hurt at all the things Harry had been hiding from her, she ran over and did her best to help, but she was only a little girl, she could barely lift Ginny.

"Tom," Harry gasped. "Please. We need your help. There's a basilisk, it could be here at any minute . . ." What the heck was a basilisk?

Amia's Papa didn't move. Harry bent over to get his wand but it was nowhere to be seen. Slowly Amia set Ginny back down and straightened staring at her Papa. He was holding Harry's wand.

"Papa?" She looked at him, eyes narrowed. "What are you doing? What's going on? Why are you _here?_"

"You'll know everything soon sweetheart." He assured her, and he sounded so much – so painfully much like the Papa she had known, the kind, loving one who sat in her room for nights on end so she wouldn't be afraid of the dark.

"Amia, don't –" Harry said frantically, but Amia whirled on him, eyes blazing.

"Don't even try to tell me what to do Harry Potter." She spat, and he shook his head helplessly.

"Listen, we need to get out of here. If the Basilisk comes . . ." He shouted, looking at Amia.

"It won't come until it's called." Her Papa told him calmly.

"What? How do you know that?" Amia asked, eyes wide.

"What do you mean?" Harry stepped in. "Look give me my wand and I can –"

Her Papa smiled, and something about was just . . . off. Amia didn't recognize it at all. Not like that smile that kept her up at night, praying she would be able to see it again someday. "You won't be needing it."

Harry opened his mouth to say something while Amia stared at the man in front of her. Who was he? He looked just like her Papa. When he called her sweetheart he felt like her Papa. When he spoke to her she wished he was her Papa, but there was something different, and Amia pleaded, begged, _prayed _in her mind she wouldn't find out what.

He cut the boy off, turning to the little girl instead. "Do you love me Amia?"

She hesitated, and in that one moment, as she realized that her response wasn't instantaneous, and that even though she should have been, she wasn't certain, fear crept into her mind.

Her Papa stepped closer, eyes searching hers. She stared into his, this younger version of her Papa's. The eyes were the same, exactly as she remembered them, but at the same time, not. She breathed in deeply. What was going on? How was he even here? How – when she'd spent the whole year waiting for answers, hoping with all her heart that he wasn't what she'd seen he was, crying herself to sleep and wishing for his soft voice to tell her everything was okay – could he _possibly _be here?

"Come on angel." He whispered, and suddenly he looked so sad, so incredibly sad. "Don't you trust me?"

Slowly, she nodded her head, and it broke her heart. Because she wasn't even sure if she was telling the truth.

"Then just . . . just trust me, okay? Just trust me. Please."

Amia didn't agree, but she didn't refuse either.

Her Papa turned back to Harry. "We're going to talk now."

"Why is Ginny like that?" Harry blurted. Amia watched her Papa carefully to see his response.

"Well, I suppose the most simple explanation is that she poured her heart out to an invisible stranger. My diary. Ginny's been writing in it for months. All about her fears, worries, how her brothers tease her, how she loved this new sister of hers, but she had too many secrets, how she didn't think that the famous Harry Potter would ever notice her . . ."

Amia quickly covered her ears. She didn't want to hear any of it. She'd wanted answers all year long, but now she couldn't bear to listen to any of it. This was not her Papa. It wasn't him.

But he felt so _excruciatingly _like him. Like her Papa that she trusted, that she loved. How could she be sure? Maybe it really was him, and later he'd have a whole explanation for her that would make perfect sense. However no matter how badly she wanted to believe that, there was something just not right.

There was something about Ginny and a diary and Harry and Hagrid and Dumbledore, but Amia couldn't understand any of it. All she saw were his eyes. Her Papa's eyes. She had said before, eyes were the only part of a person that never lied. If you looked hard enough you could see everything in someone's eyes. The truth. But as she stared at her Papa's while he spoke to Harry, she couldn't see anything at all. It terrified her. That's not what her Papa's eyes looked like.

She snapped back into reality when Riddle pulled Harry's wand back out of his pocket and spelled out the words:

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

And with a wave, they rearranged themselves:

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

He began to speak again, and Harry must have done something as well, but Amia could only look at the words.

She'd heard only whispers about a lord. A terrible wizard who wasn't even a man, but the information had been so scattered and vague that she had no clear idea of what it was everyone was so scared of. It didn't matter though, because she knew just like that, standing in the dark chamber, Voldemort was the one they spoke of. And hovering in front of her it said, clear as day, that the man who seemed to be her Papa _was _him. She didn't understand. It was too much. Her thoughts made no sense. What was going on?

"You're not." Harry was saying quietly, and Amia was almost frightened by the hatred in his voice. "You're not the greatest sorcerer in the world. The greatest wizard is Albus Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore's been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!" Her Papa hissed.

"He's not as gone as you might think!" Harry yelled.

But then everyone went silent as music filled the chamber. And then Amia saw it, she had no idea what it was, but a bird with fiery red wings came soaring from the darkness, carrying the Sorting Hat. The _Sorting Hat. _If the situation wasn't what it was, Amia would have been disdainful – still hurt from being told that there was no way she could belong in Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw was the smart house, which meant the Hat had basically told her she was stupid.

Amia decided her ears officially had stopped working except for the music, because she could no longer hear anything that anyone was saying. Her heart was pounding too loudly.

She did however hear the grinding, scraping, crushing sound that the great stone structure at the end of the chamber made as it opened. Then, much to her horror, and immense, petrifying monster slithered out.

Now she understood. _This _was it. The beast. The Basilisk.

She was so shocked and horrified that it took her a moment to realize. It was this boy who was only a few years older than her and Harry, who had let it out. He was the one controlling the monster. He was the lord.

He was her Papa.

But he wasn't. No, this man was evil. The only two options were that he was not her Papa, or that he Papa was evil. And Amia refused to believe the latter.

She took a step back, blinking away tears. She should have been helping, what was she doing? Harry was fighting the Basilisk but all she could do was stare at the other, black-haired boy. "What have you done?" She whispered. "Who are you?"

"Amia," his voice got soft and he reached out to her but she took another step away. "Please. I promise it will all be okay. As long as you trust me. You have to trust me my love, I love you. And if you love me, you will trust me."

But Amia understood now. She might have been confused about every single other thing in her life, and she might have been scared out of her mind, and it might have broken her heart because she wanted more than anything for it to be a lie and for him to really be here and to smile and hug her, but she knew.

She shook her head, breathing heavily. "No. You aren't my Papa. You don't even exist."

Something flashed in his eyes, the first real thing she'd seen in them so far. "Stop being such a stupid little girl. I will exist soon enough, and when I do you'll know. You'll believe me. And you'll trust me. You won't have any other choice. Because you are _mine!_"

She stumbled back. No. This most certainly wasn't him. It wasn't him at all.

"Now come here."

Amia quickly shook her head, slipping on the water on the ground and scrambling back.

"I said come here!" He screamed, rage shooting across his features.

"I won't!" She yelled up at him from the ground. "I won't because you. Aren't. My. PAPA!"

He lunged at her, but a horrible, shattering shriek stopped him. Amia looked over just as Harry pulled a sword – yes a sword – from where he'd impaled the roof of the Basilisk's mouth with it. Then he dropped the weapon to the ground as the monster finally stopped moving and clutched his arm.

A huge, long white fang was imbedded in it.

Amia stood and ran over as he took it out.

He looked at her, face covered in grime and sweat and blood, and gave a tiny smile. "It's okay Amia. It's okay."

Amia pressed her hands over the wound and whipped her head back and forth. "No no no no no no, you're going to be fine. Madam Pomfrey can cure anything, remember? Even regrow bones. You're going to be fine. We'll get Ginny and get out of here and Ron will help and you'll be fine." But there was something unnatural about his injury and Amia's heart sunk. "I'm sorry Harry." She sobbed. "I'm so, so sorry. Please forgive me."

Harry shook his head and coughed. "Why would I need to forgive you? You have nothing to be sorry for. I should apologize."

"Don't." Amia said quickly, she just couldn't.

"Basilisk venom. You'll be dead in less than a minute." Riddle's voice said quietly. Maliciously.

Amia went to go after him but Harry grabbed her arm and shook his head. "Please don't Amia."

So she didn't.

Except then, as Harry's skin got increasingly colder, something strange happened. The bird, the fiery one, landed next to the two children and bent its head over the wound. Amia frowned and slowly removed her hand. And then, to both their amazement, a few tears dripped from the bird's eyes and onto where Harry had been hurt.

And then the wound shrunk. And shrunk. And then there was no wound.

As both kids stared at his arm, speechless, Riddle's face contorted in anger. "Wait – no! Get away! Get away from him bird!" But Harry was already healed.

He dragged himself away from where Amia could only sit and watch, and picked up the fang. What was her doing? Riddle stared at him. Then Harry raised the fang above his head, and stabbed it into the diary.

Riddle screamed. An awful, piercing scream, as Harry brought it down another time, and then another. Until all that remained of the man who had claimed to be Amia's Papa was Harry wand lying on the wet stone floor.

Ink seeped from the blank pages of the book as Harry threw the fang aside, and crawled over to where Ginny was stirring. But Amia couldn't go over and see if she was alright, or listen to her story. All she could do was sit on that floor, robes soaked. Staring at where Riddle had been standing. She'd been so close, so very close to having her Papa back again that it made her heart ache. But the truth was the only thing she had left of him was still just the dreams where he would hold her hand again, and his name.

**PLEASE review like really just review because then you will be my favouritest person ever (maybe).**

**Love,**

**Lost1nTheLight**


	16. Chapter 16: Amends

**Author's Note: LAST CHAPTER OF THIS STORY! There's going to be a few important things at the end so please read them. Hope you enjoy and that it was an okay ending, please review and tell me you opinion.**

Chapter 16: Amends

Amia woke in the hospital wing. Funny that the year would start and end the exact same way when so many things had changed between then and now. They had gotten out of the chamber and to Dumbledore's office and according to Madam Pomfrey it had all been too much for her and her body had shut down. If only she knew.

When she opened her eyes and sat up in the bed, Dumbledore and Harry made their way over. Ron tried to as well, but Professor McGonagall put her hand on his shoulder to stop him. Poor Ron.

"Hello there Amia, are you alright?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly as he sat at the end of her bed.

She almost laughed. What a question. "No."

"Yes, I suppose that was not the best question to be asking. Now I'm sure you have many things you want to know so let me tell you this, and then you and your friends can figure some things out. The man in the chamber of secrets was not your Papa, he was a memory of a fragment of who your Papa used to be trapped in a journal." Amia inhaled, trying to process what he meant. How could it be a fragment of her Papa? "He was the heir of Slytherin that was controlling the basilisk. I know that you must have felt very alone for a long time this year, so this is important and I want you to listen very carefully. Ginny found the journal at the beginning of the year and began writing in it, Riddle writing back to her. She poured enough of her heart into it for Riddle to get stronger and stronger so he could manipulate her. He filled her head with doubts and fears about the people she loved, made her wonder if they really did love her, made her feel like everyone was against her. He eventually grew strong enough to come out of the journal as a memory and planned on using Ginny's life to become alive himself. Amia, the man in the chamber was Voldemort."

Amia could hardly think. It was strange that the same thing Voldemort had done to Ginny he had been able to do to her, without even coming in contact with her. By ruining Ginny, he ruined Amia.

"B – but I thought you said he was a fragment of my Papa, and then you said he was Voldemort." Amia stammered, terrified at what the headmaster meant.

He nodded. "I am very sorry Amia. We don't know who your Papa is. But we know that the man in the chamber was Voldemort but also a part of your Papa. So that means that some way, somehow your Papa is connected to Voldemort."

Amia choked. "W – what?"

Dumbledore put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Do not despair my child. We do not know everything yet. Keep your attention on the light." The same thing he'd told her when she'd first spoken with him without throwing chairs at him.

She took a shaky breath and nodded. But she was tired of focusing on the light, hoping for something good to come of what had happened.

"I have a few other things to tell you later, but now I think it's time that you spoke with your friends." He smiled sadly and left.

Amia sat in silence for a few moments.

"I'm so sorry Amia." Harry finally told her. "I found the book too, around Christmas. And I was afraid to say anything to you because I didn't know what it meant. It was Tom Riddle, and at the time I didn't know who he was, and I was scared of what it might mean for you. So Hermione, Ron and I kept it a secret. We didn't realize how terrible a thing it was to do to you when you were already so alone. So I'm sorry. If you can't forgive me then I understand. I deserve it. I just wanted you to know."

Amia didn't know what to say. She had thought that they hated her, that they didn't care about her anymore, but really they were just frightened. Everything she'd believed was wrong. And just like that she couldn't stop it, she started to cry.

Harry wrapped his arms around her and she cried for ages. "I'm sorry Harry." She didn't know what she was apologizing for, but she felt like she had to. "Of course I forgive you. You have nothing to be forgiven for anyway."

"Yes I do." He said quietly. "I left you alone and I'm sorry."

Finally, Amia wiped away her tears. "I just – I just feel like I've been crying all year long." She whispered.

"Everything's okay now though. And I promise I won't leave you alone again. I promise." Harry told her. She nodded and managed a smile.

"Come on Ron, what are you doing standing over there?" She called to the red-headed boy that was looking at the two longingly. His face lit up and he ran over, throwing his arms around the little girl.

"I'm so sorry Amia. I'm sorry for everything. I love you." He said, his voice muffled.

Amia began to laugh. "I forgive you Ron. I forgive you all. And I love you too."

Ron drew back, eyes red from his own tears, and grinned at her. Then all three of them burst into laughter.

And everything was good, finally. Everything was okay.

* * *

Ginny came over a little while later when Ron and Harry were talking with Madam Pomfrey, head bowed "Hey Amia." She said shyly, hands fidgeting with her shirt.

"Hi Ginny." Amia said quietly.

"I – I just wanted to say that I'm r – really sorry. I didn't mean any of it. Riddle made me. I'm so sorry. I am a terrible sister. I j – just hope that someday you might be able to forgive me." She sniffled.

"I forgive you now Ginny. I love you." Amia told her.

Ginny's head shot up to stare at her in shock.

Amia shrugged. "You're my sister."

Ginny burst into tears. "I love you too Amia."

Amia smiled. Hardly daring to believe that it was possible. That everything she'd cried over every night during her year at Hogwarts, could vanish in just one day.

Well, almost everything.

Fred and George who had come to make sure Ginny was okay watched as the two girls hugged. Even though Amia had forgiven her in the blink of an eye, the rest of them knew the truth. The diary might have manipulated their sister but it couldn't have made her believe the things that she believed unless she'd already had those thoughts in her head somewhere. Ginny had made Amia hurt for an entire year, and when something like that happened you couldn't ever go back to beginning.

But looking at the two sisters, the twins decided that maybe if they loved each other that much, they could still make it okay, even if it wasn't the way it had been before. Maybe they could make it even better.

* * *

"Now this is the question. Because of the situation we're in, the Weasleys have given us a proposition. Amia, are you willing to live with them indefinitely until we are completely sure of things with your Papa. Starting with who he is." Dumbledore told the little girl. By his tone she guessed that that was going to take a while. She didn't even want to think about it.

"Now I'm sure you'll want to take some time to think about it considering everything that's happened –"

"Yes." Amia interrupted him. Behind his half-moon glasses, the headmaster's blue eyes twinkled and he gave her a knowing smile.

"Well now that that's settled. I believe you are all set to go down to the feast."

Amia gave him the biggest smile anyone had seen from her since September, and hopped up. "Okay, bye Professor!" She chirped, then left his office, running down to the Great Hall.

Ron, Harry and Hermione were waiting for her as expected. However the others were most certainly not expected. When she came over to the Gryffindor table, a mass of students stood from their seats. Ginny, Fred, George, Dean, Seamus, Neville, Parvati, Lee Jordan, even Percy. As she went to sit down beside Ron and Harry, they clapped her on the back and smiled at her. "We're glad you're okay Amia." Neville finally said once she was sitting comfortable in her seat.

She took a deep breath. "Me too. Thanks." And she couldn't say anything else because everyone was looking at her and it was making her face go red.

"Alright, everyone go back to your conversations, you're turning her into a tomato." George barked roughly at the students and they laughed and obliged. Amia smiled and nodded at him appreciatively. George winked and grinned. The little girl had no idea how much happier it made everyone to see that she was alright. That was the problem. She had no idea how much everyone cared about her, which made it very easy for her to forget all together.

Amia touched the necklace hidden under her Hogwarts sweater. Well, maybe from now on she'd be able to remember.

That feast was one of the most extraordinary things Amia had ever experienced. Hermione had come running to them, throwing her arms around all three at once screaming that they'd solved it and crying when she saw Amia grinning at her. Hagrid came back as well, hugged the four friends so tightly that he might have broken a few of their ribs. Gryffindor won the house cup, and the whole house was stomping their feet, pounding their fists against the table, cheering so loudly they were all in danger of going deaf. Exams were cancelled, which was a great relief to Amia seeing as she hadn't even tried to work or listen in any of her classes almost all year long. Though Hermione was disappointed which made Amia laugh like a maniac. Professor Dumbledore made the announcement that Professor Lockhart would not be able to return the next year, which almost everyone was ecstatic about, even the teachers. Amia was so happy that she was jumping up and down, cheering.

That celebrations went on all through the night, everyone in the Gryffindor common room in their pyjamas, just dancing and cheering and laughing and smiling and it was so wonderful that Amia almost wanted to cry. But she didn't cry, she'd done enough of that. Instead she grinned all night long.

* * *

Ginny had a very interesting announcement to make in the train back. Ron, Hermione, Ron, Amia, Ginny, Fred and George had gotten a compartment. Amia couldn't sit still though and spent quite a lot of time running up and down the train, visiting Neville and such.

Apparently, Percy Weasley had gotten himself a girlfriend. When the news broke everyone sat in shock, dropping anything in their hands and staring at Ginny. But Amia just laughed and laughed and laughed.

Harry gave Ron and Hermione his phone number, and Amia decided she was going to visit him this summer no matter what it took. And then together they walked through the gateway to the muggle world, Amia and Ginny holding hands, like a family.

**Alright so here are some things that you should probably read if you liked this story and want the next one (fingers crossed). So, I realize that this book was very Ami-centric and didn't have some of the important things that happen to the trio in the original books because most of the time Amia didn't experience those things because of her state and everything. Now that most of those things are cleared up there will be more stuff from the actual books in the next story but still a lot of original parts of course. So now, obviously first of all please review so to tell me if you actually do want me to write the next one (I probably will anyway because I feel like it), but also review and tell me if you want the next one to be in third person again or first person. I know it might be a little disorienting to change the perspective but I feel like it you guys don't like it in third person it might be easier to write about her emotions and stuff in first person. I know that a lot of stuff is still kind of a mystery and it doesn't really make sense what's going on but in the next book I promise more things will be revealed. Umm, what else do I need to say? I'm not sure. If I think of something else I'll tell you guys. So basically: PLEASE REVIEW IT WOULD MEAN SO MUCH JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT AND IF YOU WANT ME TO KEEP WRITING THE NEXT ONE AND YEAH ABOUT THAT PERSPECTIVE THING AND ALSO IF YOU HAD ANY QUESTIONS AT ALL ASK AWAY BECAUSE SOMETIMES I GET REALLY CONFUSING WHICH I APOLOGIZE FOR AND THANKS SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR KIND REVIEWS AND EVERYTHING THEY HONESTLY MAKE MY DAY WHENEVER SOMEONE POSTS ONE SO THANKS! **

**Love,**

**Lost1nTheLight**


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